


Remnants of a Friend

by orphan_account



Series: More Than Friends [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Coma, Comfort, Depression, F/M, Friendship, Longing, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, MidLink, Post-Canon, Recovery, Smoking, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, mirror of twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 84,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And as Link's misfortunes begin, Zelda's learning to trust her gut.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

            “Should I have made him stay?” The young woman groaned and massaged her temples to ease her headache. When she wasn’t given an answer, she just cursed under her breath and dug her thumbs harder into the sides of her head. There was a hooded woman across the room who she kept a dull gaze with. She had never seen this person in her castle before, and the gates were closed to the public at this time of night. This hooded woman stressed her and aroused her suspicions.

            She had closed her eyes and broke gaze with the hooded woman. She heard footsteps and felt a hand gently rest on her shoulder. She looked up and tried to cover up her pained expression on her face. The hooded woman’s eyes couldn’t be seen. The poorly lit room only allowed her to see the tip of the woman’s nose and her smiling lips.

            “Princess Zelda,” the hooded woman whispered with a soft and inviting voice, “He is The Hero of Twilight. I am quite sure he can handle a ride in the night back to Ordon.”

            Zelda sighed. She brushed away the woman’s hands from her shoulders. “It is not his ride home that stresses me.” She stood, walked to the other side of the room, and removed her crown from her head. “He has just lost a friend who he connected with over the past few months. I cannot even fathom the pain he must be going through, losing a friend like that. It’s hard for me to believe he’ll have all of his sanity after that.”

            The hooded woman crossed her arms. “Princess Zel-“

            “Just call me Zelda,” she stated.

            The hooded woman’s lips stopped moving while partly open, and even though only half of her face could be seen, her expression just showed how confused she was.  “I do not want to be rude, but excuse me? You are the princess and ruler of Hyrule, you protected us from Zant and Ganondorf. I do not feel worthy to call you just by your name.”

            Zelda turned her head away from the woman and gazed out the open window. “I don’t like to be referred to as ‘Princess’. It makes me feel that I am above everybody else, but I am not. I feel we are equals.” She took a deep breath and looked back at the hooded woman. “Now, I am worried for Link and his safety, and you were opposing?”

            The hooded woman sighed in defeat. “Zelda, the goddesses chose _him_ for a reason. If they knew he couldn’t handle the aftermath of it all, they wouldn’t have chosen him. If he couldn’t handle it they wouldn’t have let the part of the triforce that holds courage reside in him.”

            Zelda began to twist her hair in her tense hands. She was getting a bit flustered with the whole conversation and wanted to ease her tension without yelling.  “But people change. Yes, he handled it all up until now. But human nature is a pain when it comes to feelings of grief. Although he was chosen by the goddesses themselves, he is a human, and humans are susceptible to feelings, change, and mental decay. _I_ am worried for him.” She gave the hooded woman a stare into where her eyes would be. “I will be visiting him in a week. Could you let the stable master know to prepare my horse for then?” She knew asking that would determine whether she knew this woman or not. After what had just happened with Ganondorf and Zant, she found it hard to trust people she hadn’t seen before.

            The hooded woman shook her head, and a long tendril of tightly woven platinum blonde hair slipped out from inside the hood. Zelda was right, she didn’t know this woman.  Zelda’s heart began to beat faster and irregularly. She was curious as to how the woman got in; the gates had been closed all day. Unless she climbed in the window, she couldn’t think of any other way this suspicious woman could have gotten him. She just hoped it wasn’t a servant of Ganon that was still alive.

            “Maybe if I worked for you, I could tell the stable master.” The hooded woman smirked. “You should probably tell somebody else besides me.

            Zelda tried to hide the emotions from forming on her face, but she was growing scared. This woman seemed to be plotting something, in Zelda’s eyes at least. She felt threatened. She didn’t want to show it. She raised one brow, widened her eyes, and gritted her teeth. “If you don’t work here, then who the hell are you?  The gates have been closed all day,” she practically hissed, “so how did you get in?” Her eyes flooded with fear, it was the only reason she acted this way. She didn’t know who this woman was and what her motive was. All she knew is that she didn’t want something like what Zant did to happen again.

            “Don’t feel threatened,” she whispered. The hooded woman reached her hands up to her hood to pull it back.

            Zelda cursed under her breath, “Why shouldn’t I feel threatened? You have come in without proper permission. The last time this happened Hyrule was taken from me by that tyrant, Zant.” Her gaze flickered to her right, where her sheathed sword was. She began to inch her arm over to grab it.

            “Because I was sent here to look over you, not hurt you,” the hooded woman grunted. She flipped back her hood this time, revealing her face. Her skin was deeply tanned, a lot darker than her own skin. Besides the one long tendril of hair, her platinum blonde hair was cut short, close to her skull. Underneath her left eye was a tattoo of a teardrop. The hooded woman’s clothes were of dark color, and over top her chest was a cloth with the mark of the Sheikah tribe; Zelda recognized it from her many studies.

            “H-how am I supposed to know that?” Her voice faltered and stuttered. She felt her face lose all color and flood with horror.

            The woman turned her head and locked a gaze with Zelda. “My name is Impa. I was sent by the goddesses to protect you. I was only able to come to you now due to the circumstances that Hyrule was in these past few months. Please forgive me for my absences, and that I came to you today to try to relieve you of your stressed, but only flustered you and filled you with fear.”

            Zelda’s face turned white and her mouth gaped open. “W-why couldn’t you help me during the invasion of the Twilight?”

            “I couldn’t enter the Twilight unless I wanted to become a spirit like the rest of your people – Link was the only one who became a beast.” Impa deepened her stare into Zelda’s eyes. “Even if I could have entered the Twilight, I wouldn’t have been able to enter the castle. Ganon had set up a reflector that prevented anybody from entering.”

            Zelda regained some control over her expressions. She closed her mouth and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, I am sorry,” she sighed, “I didn’t know. I was scared. I didn’t want anything to happen to Hyrule again.”

            Impa crouched down and laid her hand on Zelda’s shoulder and smiled warmly at her. “It is fine, My Grace. I could understand your reason to fear me. “

            Zelda looked back up at Impa and smiled slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

            Impa just nodded. She stood from her crouched position and walked towards the window. “If you can excuse me, but I need to go find a place to sleep tonight,” she stated firmly while looking back at Zelda. She chuckled at herself for a second, “I may have to do more mental check-ups with you than you feel you must do to Link; you seem like a lost puppy.”

            Zelda smiled back. And before she knew it Impa had left. Zelda was left there somewhat confused at everything that just happened. She felt as if she was flooded with information and she couldn’t take it all in at once. She felt as if it was a dream.

            But she knew that everything that happened was all too real to ever be dreamed of.

 


	2. Worry and Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And as Link's misfortunes begin, Zelda's learning to trust her gut.

Light from the high moon shone through the windows, illuminating a small Ordonian home. It was unkempt and disheveled, like somebody hadn’t been living there for months. To make matters worse, it reeked of mold and rodents. There was no noise in the house, though, and it seemed awfully empty. Then the front door slammed open, allowing the moonlight to create a shadow of a young man standing in the doorway. The man stepped into the home, closing the door behind him. He trudged across the main room to the bed, dragging his feet with every step he made. Small whimpers could be heard between each step he took.

            He stood in front of the untidy bed and began to undress. First he unbuckled the belts holding this scabbard and sword then removed them from his shoulder. He placed them on a pile at the foot of his bed. Next, he removed the fern green cap from his head and began undoing his tunic. As he lifted the fabric over his head, he noticed all the damage it had received during the time he wore it. So many little stitches to close the tears he made. There was a fresh, giant tear across the backside of the tunic. There was dried blood around it, too. The man groaned - another injury to worry about. He shook his head and reached down to slip off his boots.

            Once he was left in his undershirt and trousers, the man crawled into the musty bed. He just curled up into a fetal position and didn’t make a word. Tears that rolled down his cheeks were illuminated by the reflecting light of the moon. It made his wet eyes and puffy, raw, bloodshot eyes obvious. Every time more tears began to stream, the boys grit his teeth harder and harder. Shortly enough, whimpers began to escape from deep within the boy’s throat. “Why me? Why did _I_ have to be the goddesses’ chosen? Why couldn’t they have chosen somebody else? Somebody who could handle this much grief…”

            The boy just buried his face into his pillow and didn’t make a peep the rest of the night. He just wanted a few moments to remember the last few months together with her. They had become such close friends; they sacrificed themselves for each other. The bond they shared was beautiful. It was their final moments that broke his heart. It was only then he realized his true feelings for her.

            _The beautiful twilit princess stood in the light of the shining mirror. She at both Princess Zelda and the boy she had grown to love over the past year and a half. She sighed deeply when their gazes broke, she didn’t want to do what she had to. She was happy that she’d be able to go home, but she was leaving an important part of her behind. It felt like such a deficit. She felt a tear began to escape her left eye. She had to leave now before she created anymore emotional trauma on herself. The tear left her eyes and traveled down her face and down to the tips of her fingers. It then launched itself off her finger and toward the mirror._

_The young boy just stood there smiling innocently at her. She presumed he thought they would be able to see each other again. He was far from being right though. An ache ran through her body, with it rooting at her heart strings. She felt bad for betraying him like such, but she had to. If she didn’t do was she was about to, this whole mess could happen all over again._

_“Link… I …,” she paused momentarily. Making eye contact with the Link, who was cocking his head in confusion, she hurt even more. She broke the gaze and continued, “I… See you later.” And it seemed not even seconds later the teardrop she released came in contact with the mirror. A giant crack formed where the tear hit, and it began to spread rapidly. She felt sick to her stomach as Link gaped at what was happening. She watched all color drain from his face as he desperately looked from her to the mirror and back. She wanted to sob right then and there, but she couldn’t break his heart anymore. She was going home now and there was no turning back. This was it. And she was gone._

_“Midna!” Link yelled after the princess as she seemed to disintegrate into thin air in his face. His stomach dropped and he felt nausea wave over him. He bit his lip and fell to his knees in front of the shattered mirror. “Tell me this is a dream and that didn’t just happen.” He looked frantically at Zelda with wide, horrified eyes.  Zelda refused to make eye contact with him, she just stared at the foot of her gown. She was mourning, too. But, Link was to be expected to take it far worse._

_She sighed deeply before gathering any last strands of courage. “I’m sorry Link,” the words barely escaped her lips as she tried not to choke on her forming tears. “She’s gone. There’s no going back.”_

_He didn’t do a thing after that. He sat there in the dirt, staring blankly at the shattered pieces of mirror everywhere. Zelda noticed Link dry his eyes a few times. Eventually, after much time passed by, he gathered himself to stand and exit the chamber. He walked right past Zelda, without a word or eye contact. She heard the sound of his stirrups clack against the side of his saddle as he tacked up Epona. She then heard a whinny and the sound of galloping hooves echo in the distance, fading with each second passed. She looked out the exit of the chamber, and the only thing significant she saw was the cloud of dust coming from behind Epona’s hind hooves. Zelda sighed at the sight. She could tell by the way he talked and stormed out of the chamber that this was going to be one long ride for Link._

            It was surely a long and painful ride home for him. The large wound he acquired on his back only made matters worse. He just wanted to forget it all. He wasn’t bothered that he seemed to be acting childish, he truly felt like one. He wanted to hide away in his home and not talk to anybody. He didn’t want to see Zelda again, just the thought of her made him flood with memories of Midna. Link sighed, closed his eyes, tightened the position he was in, and buried his face into his pillow. Eventually, his breathed slowed and he drifted off into slumber.

-

            Heavy hands pounded at Link’s front door. He groaned and uncovered himself from his blankets and looked out one of his windows. The sun was up and shining, the green summer leaves shook in the wind, and the birds of Faron flew in the sky. He just sighed through his nose and then pushed himself up from the bed. He yawned and stretched upward before making his way to the front door. His mind was still groggy from sleep when he was awoken by even more pounding. Link mumbled a few words of annoyance under his breath before reaching for the handle of the door. Slowly, he twisted the knob and opened the door. He found Fado pacing himself around on the small deck of Link’s.

            “What do you want?” Link moaned, rubbing his tired eyes. Fado was startled and jumped; he had been too caught up in himself to notice Link open the door. A small amount of pink flushed his cheeks, and a warm smile appeared on his lips. He rushed up to the shorter and embraced him in a tight hug, lifting him off his feet.

            “Ah, Link! So glad to have you back!” Fado spun around, taking Link with him. “Rusl told us everything you had to do when he got back with the children yesterday. Everybody was so thankful for keeping the kids in one piece! And we’re all happy you arrived safe as well! Man, I’m just so glad you’re back – it was so hard working down at the ranch all by my lonesome.”

            Link tried to push himself out of Fado’s grip, but his arms were pinned down, too. “F-fado,” he choked. “C-c-can’t br-breathe.” Fado’s grip loosened, placing Link back on his feet. Link just stood there and panted, trying to regain his breath.

            Fado took his hand to the nape of his neck while his cheeks turned a deep crimson. His grin was wide and cheesy, and his eyes were closed. Probably to avoid eye contact with his friend that he almost suffocated. “Ah… heh heh… sorry about that, we’re all just so glad you’re back.”

            Once Link regained his composure, he just shrugged. “I presumed so.” He glanced back at his gaping door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to tidy myself up a bit so I can come into town.” He began to make his way to the open doorway.

            Fado nodded his head quickly. “Y-yes, sorry. I hadn’t realized you would still be sleeping when I came, because it is around noon.” He chuckled to himself for a second. Then he stepped down to the ladder. “I’ll be up at the ranch if you want to come. If you don’t feel up to it yet, it’s fine. I heard about everything you went though, so I assume you feel kind of shitty, right?”

            Link smirked the slightest bit. “Yeah, I kind of don’t feel the best.” He shrugged and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll probably just come up and hang out, I don’t really feel like doing too much yet. I’m really sore anyways.” He gestured to his back.

            Fado giggled for a second. “Okay then, I’ll see you later, partner!” He waved and continued going down the ladder. Link just continued to enter his home and close the door behind him. He sighed and the smirk left his face. He washed his face before reaching for the tunic and cap lying on the flood. He hesitated. Did he really need to wear that anymore? He wasn’t acting as the hero anymore, so he assumed he didn’t need to. He sighed, picking up the pile of clothes and weaponry he used on his journey. They reeked of blood, sweat, and her. He winced. Although she always sat on his shoulder, he didn’t realize she did it enough to leave her smell.

            Links shook his head and regained control of his sense. He began to head towards his basement ladder. He looked down at the hole he called his basement. It was cold and dark. With his arms full, he had no room to carry a lantern down there with him. He sighed and began to make his footing on the steps of the ladder. All was going well until he was halfway down. He reached his foot down for the next step but there was nothing. He stretched it out as far as he could, but he still felt nothing to rest his foot onto. He groaned and stood there on the one step for a minute until he heard a creak from under his foot. His suspicions were confirmed. In the many months he was away, the goddesses damned termites got into his home again. He sighed, and began to pull his hanging foot back up. But when all his weight shifted onto the foot, the creaking step underneath it broke in half.

            Link slipped from the steps, wide eyed and gaping at the light of his main room. His grasp on the pile of clothing loosened when he fell. And he was falling faster than the pile. He landed on the dirt floor with a thud. He grit his teeth as pain shot up his spine. It was only temporary though, it was only going to be a massive bruise. Then the tunic, cap, scabbard and sword, and shield, all landed on his left ankle. Link shrieked and gritted his teeth. He felt his ankle shatter underneath the force of the landing of the scabbard and shield. He bended forward at his hips and shoved the heavy objects off his ankle. He cringed before pulling up the end of his trousers to see a slightly bloody, swollen, red, painful ankle. He also noticed the purplish green bruise coming to the surface of his skin.

            Link rolled his eyes and frowned at the sight of his ankle. “Goddesses damn it,” he gibed underneath his breath. He tried moving his ankle from side to side, but the pain coming up his leg made it impossible to do. Struggling with it only made it worse. He felt as if his whole leg was on fire. His eyes widened in pain the last time he tried. When the worst of it died down, Link glared at his now useless leg and then up at the ladder. It wasn’t the fall itself that hurt. It was that damned master sword and shield that did it. He moaned and used his arms and good leg to scoot himself up against a wall. He laid his head back into the wall and cursed. He figured he wasn’t going to get out of here for a while.

            “Am I really going to be stuck here?” He stared at his now swollen ankle. He frowned slightly but reopened his mouth. “I guess so. All thanks to you.” Link glared at the purplish bruise forming on the skin. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to sleep the time away. He hoped maybe Fado or Ilia would get worried and come to check on in. He wanted somebody to find him to get him out of here. He didn’t want to be even lonelier than he already was.

-

            Zelda paced herself around her bedroom. It had been several days since she met Impa for the first time. And although Impa said not to worry, she couldn’t stop thinking of him. She felt bad for him, losing a friend is painful for a while. It wasn’t even like she was really dead; she was just unable to be seen, ever again. She sighed and placed her head back into her hands – another headache. She rubbed her temples with greater pressure than normal. She was stressing herself over him. She wanted to go and check up on him already. Castle security wouldn’t allow her leave just yet, they were still concerned for her safety, judging on what had just recently happened with Ganondorf and Zant.

            She figured a two day ride to Ordon wasn’t that bad. She would ride to Kakariko for the night, stay in the Inn, and then head out to Ordon the next day. It was a safe enough plan, she presumed. She removed her crown from her head, and undid the ribbons and ponytails holding her hair back. She just put it all into a braid that cascaded down her back and ended at the small of it. Zelda then took off her gown and replaced it with her riding trousers and top. She grabbed a jacket just in case it would get colder towards the evening.

            Zelda grabbed her quiver and bow, just for precautions, and her tote. She quickly scurried down the spiraling staircase into the kitchen to grab a few apples to last her hunger until she reached Kakariko. She then headed for the stables. She found her white beauty of a horse in her stall, nibbling at hay. It whinnied at the sight of Zelda, who smiled at the happy sound. She tacked up the friendly beast and mounted. Grasping the reins in her hands, she kicked her friend into a slow canter, leaving the castle grounds.

            Since the bridge to the east was still being worked on, she had to take the long route to Kakariko – the bridge to the west. As she neared, she still smelled the faint traces of the oil that had lit the bridge at once. Link had told her about that time, when he was trapped in the body of a beast. It sickened her to think of all Link had been put through over the past year and a half. Any normal person would have fallen apart by the end of it. She was worried that he would fall apart.

            She squeezed her grip on her horse’s barrel, and the beauty sped up its strides. She was nearing Kakariko and the sun was starting to set. She wanted to get there before dark. She was able to cross the Hyrule field mindlessly – she saw no threats in sight. And soon enough, Zelda was in Kakariko. She slowed her horse to a trot and headed towards the Inn. She halted her horsed near the stables and dismounted. She grabbed her horse by the reins and began to lead it back to the stables. As she entered, she noticed another horse was in a stall, but she didn’t pay too much attention to it. She led her white beauty into a stall, removed her tack from her, and fed her some of the grain that was lying around. Zelda exited the stall and locked it up behind her.

            She began to exit the stables; she paid more attention to the second horse. It looked familiar. Zelda began to approach it slowly, although it seemed calm, she didn’t want to startle it. And then she recognized the horse. The mare’s pale chestnut colored fur, blonde mane, and large build made it all too clear to her.

            Zelda ran from the stables toward the Inn with a wide, cheesy grin on her face “Link!”


	3. Found and Broken

            Zelda slammed open the doors of the inn. “Link! I’m here!” All she got in return were blank stares from the plump barkeeper from castle town, the young girl who may or may not be Link’s girlfriend, and the town shaman, Renado. Zelda’s cheeks flushed crimson when she realized that Link was nowhere to be found. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “So, where is Link?” She shrugged her shoulders, entering the inn and closing the door behind her.

            The barkeeper turned to Zelda, and gestured to the young girl. “Ilia came on Epona. She says Link hasn’t been out of his house since he got back. Well, she said Fado had talked with him the morning after he returned, but he hasn’t been out since. She’s just worried for him, y’know? He might be sick or something, who knows.” She woman smirked and returned to drying a few shot glasses; Zelda watched the glass carefully.

            Renado nodded in reply to the barkeeper’s explanation. “Telma’s correct. We are going to visit him tomorrow, to make sure he’s fine. You never know what state he is in; despite that he _is_ the hero of twilight, he is still susceptible to illness and mental fatigue, just like every one of us.”

            Zelda nodded. She glanced over at Ilia, who was reading, and sighed. She pulled out a barstool and placed herself on it. Her hands held up her head; her elbows resting on the countertop. Zelda looked up at Telma. “Give me your strongest.”

            Telma’s expression widened. “Oh, you drink scotch?” She giggled, reaching for a bottle and empty glass.

            Zelda shrugged her shoulders; she lowered her gaze back to the countertop. “Not usually,” she sighed. “I don’t normally drink. Now’s an exception, though.” She smirked and laughed in a rhetoric way. She just wanted a drink to fog up her mind – she didn’t want to think of what could be happening with Link right now. Another migraine would be the worst of things to pop up. A glass with an amber colored liquid was placed on the counter in front of Zelda. Telma smirked and placed her hips. Zelda stared at the glass for a second, then brought the alcoholic liquid to her lips and downed it. She cringed at the strong taste of the drink. “Thanks.”

            Telma winked at the fair skinned girl. “Not a problems, honey.” She gestured over toward Ilia. “I feel I must tell you a few of my suspicions about _her_ , though.” The plump woman poured her own glass of whiskey and sipped on it, leaning over on the counter to speak to Zelda.

            Zelda grew curious; she cocked her neck, raised a brow, and gawked slightly at Telma. She closed her parted mouth and bit her lip. “What do you mean?” Ilia seemed like a sweet girl, she was the daughter of Ordon’s mayor, and she appeared the enthrall Link enough to push him to go after her and into the twilight. What could be so bad about the young girl?

            Telma rolled her eyes and sighed, placing a hand on her hip. “She seemed like she would have been one of those sweet, innocent girls, y’know?” She glanced at Zelda for confirmation, and she just nodded. “At least that’s how I remembered her to be, when I was taking care of her. Maybe she changed after getting her memory back.  She just seems more bratty and self centered. Until you arrived, it was all about her and Link – how they were before he left, and how he has lost interest in he since he returned.” Telma shrugged and arched her back. “Honestly, I think Link is probably fine. Just a bit sad and maybe a cold; nothing too serious, but there’s nothing wrong with checking up on him.”

            Zelda had a vague and blank expression on her face. She nodded and sighed, placing a hand on her forehead to hold it up. “That’s true. That’s what I was coming to do, and I was going to stay here the night – but I saw Epona and came to false conclusions.” She flickered her eyes over at the entrance of the inn. “I wonder if Ilia’s jealous.”

            Telma giggled. “Over Midna? I presume so. Link told me all about her. He said the sweetest things about her – how she was sympathetic and caring and brave and pretty. It was adorable!” The plump woman blushed grinned slightly. “It was obvious he loved her, without a doubt. Thus, explaining why he lost interest in Ilia. Midna just made Link seem so happy in Hyrule’s time of despair.” She exhaled a warm breath of air. “Don’t you agree?”

Zelda nodded. “They couldn’t stand each other at first though; they were like two pieces of a puzzle that had one matching side, but they kept trying all their clashing sides. Then they found their match.” She then frowned. “It’s a shame that she had to leave so abruptly. It broke Link’s heart.” She sighed and so did Telma. “It was painful that night, watching him. First, she died for him. She died to allow him the time to escape to be able to prepare to fight Ganondorf.  And when the spirits of light resurrected her, she had to leave. Link seemed overjoyed to finally see her in her true form. He was speechless at her beauty and his face was all red. It was cute.” Zelda smiled a bit, remembering the scene. But then the next events struck her face with horror. “And then she left for the twilight, breaking the mirror, too. She didn’t tell Link that. Now he can’t see her. I can assume he’s depressed as hell because of all this mess.”

Telma bit her lip. “That’s probably why he’s cooped himself up in his house.” Her and Zelda kept blank gazes for a minute before Telma returned to cleaning dishes.

Zelda sighed, tapping her fingers on the countertop. “I’m going to bed.” She stood from the barstool. “Wake me up before we head out.” She twisted on the balls of her feet, and began a swift walk towards the staircase. She glanced back at Telma, who grinned. Her bright smile enlightened Zelda’s mood a bit.

-

Link groaned. He was stiff and his whole leg throbbed. He rolled his head in circles, attempting to alleviate the pressure he was feeling from the wound on his back.  He was hungry, thirsty, sore, lonely, and feeling nauseated. How long had it been since he had feel? How long had he actually been stuck down here? It seemed like a week had gone by, but he wasn’t sure – nor did he really care. His mind was too foggy to process anything that was going on; he just wanted to get out.

Link gently and slowly lowered himself from his sitting position up against the wall to lying on the floor, gritting his teething and balling his hands up into fists. Due to the injury on his back, his sprained or broken ankle, any movement he made caused him to have pain like he was burning alive. Link never realized how much he subliminally used for everyday actions. He just sighed and let out a few small pants until the pain subsided. Over time, Link noticed his skin was growing hot to the touch, and was growing warmer with every passing minute; and at times, he would have small outbursts of shivering.

“I hate life,” Link moaned hoarsely. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused and glassy, with his mouth slightly parted. In the little light that shone from the main floor, Link’s face was visibly pale and getting thin; compared to his old self, he already looked gaunt. He coughed, reaching one of his hands to his forehead, which was beading up with sweat. Link scowled when his fingertips came in contact with the burning and sweaty skin.

“Damn it,” he muttered, chuckling, and then frowning. “That wound… it got infected. This is just _great_. Midna would’ve made me wash it as soon as I got it. If she…” Link paused and laid there wide eyed. He grunted and rolled over on his side, trying to forget his thoughts about _her_. He frowned and stared at the floor. “If only she was still here…” Link’s fingers toyed with the loose strands of fabric from the carpet he laid on. His body began to fade by the minute, it was becoming too ill to hold consciousness any longer – Link began to drift off into a light slumber as the illness took over.

-

Link fluttered back into a faint, foggy, consciousness when he heard familiar voices. A hoarse cough emptied his throat when he heard several pairs of footsteps enter the floor above him. He weakly scrunched his brows and frowned. He heard vague words of a frantic conversations echo down to him.

“Link!” Hearing his name being called startled him. “Link!” The high pitched voice registered in his head – Ilia. Link smirked, he knew she would get worried and come looking for him. He still pondered as to who else was with her. Her dad? Maybe, he could get help. Rusl? He was all Link wanted right now. Fado? He hoped not. Knowing him, he would crush the living daylights from him with a hug.

Then he heard an unexpected voice; a voice Link knew off the tip of his tongue – Zelda’s. “Dear goddesses…” she groaned. Link just imagined her with her hands around her head, massaging her temples. “Where did he go Ilia?” Her voice began to intensify with every work she spoke.  Link just raised a brow. Why was Zelda yelling at Ilia? Why did Zelda even care about him? She had better things to do, like ruling Hyrule, than to worry about him.

“We’ll find him,” an older woman replied. The way she spoke with confidence could only lead him to one person, Telma. “How about Zelda and I go down and search the basement, while you and Renado continue to search this floor and the balcony.” Telma would be standing there, with a hand on her hip and a firm, but warm grin on her face; that’s how she reassured people.

Link released a dry gasp. Was he finally going to get out? His already racing heart sped up; blood rushed to his head and added to the pressure, causing his fuzzy vision to blur even more. He felt like his head was going to explode. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to lift some of the pressure. Then he heard two pairs of footsteps coming to him; one pair heavy, the other lighter. Link cracked open an eye to make out the figures of Telma and Zelda making their way down the ladder. They were going to find him, and he was overjoyed at the idea – he could finally get out. Link’s excitement made his heart beat even faster, adding more pressure.

“Watch your step, Zelda,” the plumper mumbled. She was slowly making her way down the ladder, skipping the broken steps that caused Link’s fall. She helped Zelda hop over them, and on to the floor. Link felt the vibrations of her footsteps inch across the groups he laid on. Link wanted to call Zelda’s name right then and there, but no matter how hard he tried, not a peep came from his throat. All his words were trapped inside.

“How about we head this way?” Zelda suggested, gesturing over to the corner where Link laid. Telma nodded but Link frowned. Although he did want to get out, he didn’t want them to see him in such a disheveled and sickly state. Zelda and Telma’s footsteps grew closer and Link began to panic. How were they going to react? Then the light from their lantern made contact with his fingertips. He heard a gasp from Telma, Zelda’s footsteps scurried to his side. Now, the light from the lantern illuminated his ill figure. The lantern fell from Zelda’s fingertips and onto the floor by Link’s face. He was startled and flinched at the loud crash. Telma immediately reached down and grabbed the lantern as Zelda fell to her knees by the boy’s side.     

Small whimpers exited Zelda as she trembled. “L-L-Link…” The woman clenched her teeth and balled her fists. Tears began to bubble up around the corners of her eyes. Zelda reached down and grasped Link’s face in her hands, and she gasped by how thin he got over the past few days. Telma only raised her eyebrows as she examined Link’s crooked and swollen ankle. Zelda began to rub her thumbs against his cheekbones and tried to hold back her tears; she hated seeing Link this way. Link just tried to focus on Zelda’s face, but it was all a blur, although she was only inches away from him.

Link wanted to speak, but a weight held his voice in his chest. He blinked his eyelids a few times, to show Zelda he was responsive. She only smiled slightly to his actions, though. Link weakly lifted his hand and placed it on Zelda’s. Her eyes shot open and her gaze moved to where their skins touched. Zelda immediately placed her head on Link’s chest, above where his heart laid. She heard a faint and irregular, _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump._ He was alive, but just barely.

“Goddesses,” Zelda murmured. A small grin filled her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She buried her face in her hands are she cried for a minute. When she revealed her face again, she gave Link a vague smile, to reassure him he was going to be alright. But she had felt his skin burning from the inside; she had heard his irregular and faint heartbeat. Zelda knew he wasn’t well, he just wasn’t dead. She noticed Link’s pained faced and cocked her head. She smiled and reached her hands around to his back to help sit him up. “Here, let me help you.” Unfortunately, her hands were placed on the gash on Link’s back when she gave a tug.

Link shrieked and shot his head up. His eyes were wide, his voice dry and hoarse, his breathing was growing labored and shallow; tiny beads of sweat formed around his hairline. He was in significant pain. Zelda pulled her hands away from that spot on his back and gently returned him to the ground. “I-I’m sorry Link.” Zelda didn’t look him in the eyes – she couldn’t look him in the eyes. She didn’t want to see the pain surging in them. “Telma can help you.” Zelda just turned her head to the plump woman, looking for reassurance.

Telma just nodded firmly. “I’ll grab Renado. He should know what to do.” She turned around to begin making her way up the ladder.

Link coughed and placed his hand on Zelda’s arm. He needed her attention. When Zelda shot her face back to his, he tried once more. “I-I-Ilia…” The words left his throat in an almost inaudible manner, but Zelda was close enough to understand. She widened her eyes and turned to the plump woman halfway up the ladder.

“Telma!” She called after her. Telma turned her face to Zelda. “Don’t let Ilia come down.  I don’t want her to see him like this, and I don’t think he wants her to see him either.” Telma nodded and continued up the ladder. Zelda just smiled warmly at Link, placing her hand on his cheek and rubbing it with her thumb.

When Zelda heard Renado and Telma begin to talk, she rummaged around Link’s basement looking for something – she wanted to make Link as comfortable as possible for the time-being. Link watched her make her way through his messy home until Zelda wandered out of his vision. Zelda turned her head back a few times to look at Link, helplessly lying there on the floor. She was so thankful they found him when they did; she wouldn’t have been able to handle it if he had died.

Zelda found what she was looking for, grabbed them, and rushed back to Link’s side. She held the dusty blankets up for him to see. “Look what I have!” She grinned. “It’s time to make you comfortable.” She bent down and lifted Link by his shoulders, shoving the blankets under his back to hold him up. When she lowered him onto the makeshift pillow, he winced on impact, but it felt much better to his back than the floor. Zelda looked at him and smiled – she was trying really hard to lighten the mood.

Link vaguely smiled with the energy he had left. He gestured with his fingers for her to lean in closer to him. Confused, Zelda did as he requested. Link stretched his neck up to Zelda’s ear and whispered, “T-thank you.” He winced afterwards – it had hurt his throat just to talk. Zelda still smiled, despite Link’s pained expression, and placed her hand on his forehead. She jumped a slight bit at how much warmer he felt. She was growing worried about him; she didn’t want anything to happen to him. Zelda then felt on her stress migraines begin, but she didn’t have time for it now and ignored it. Zelda grumbled something under her breath. Just then, two pairs of footsteps began to come back down the ladder. Zelda felt a wave of relief crash over her.

Telma led the way to Link; Renado kneeled by the young boy. He placed a hand on the swollen ankle. Link let out a small whimper to his touch – obviously, it hurt. Link his lip from screaming in pain as Renado rolled his leg around, trying to get a better view of the injury. Renado mumbled words, mental notes, which were only audible to Telma. She only frowned and shook her head to the news. That just provoked Link’s curiosity.

Zelda popped her voice into the discussion. “You should check his back, too.” She looked at Link, who stared at her blankly. He grumbled under his breath, it was inaudible to everybody but him. Renado then made his rounds to Link’s back. Zelda lifted the boy by his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry, Link. It’s for the best.” Link just glared at her and frowned with a parted mouth. Renado pulled up the shirt to see a swollen, red, and warm cut across Link’s back. He placed his hand on the injury and felt around. Link dryly screamed in pain, not holding anything back. Renado made a few more mental notes before Zelda placed him back on the makeshift pillow.

“Foolish boy,” Renado mumbled. “You need to wash all your wounds or they could get infected like this one. You’re lucky we came when we did. If we hadn’t, it probably would’ve spread even more than it already has, and you wouldn’t have made it.” The old man closed his eyes and shook his head. “We’re going to have to take you back to my home in Kakariko. I need to use some of my strongest medicines on that raging infection.”

Telma sighed, placing her hands on her hips; raising a brow and creating and inquisitive look on her face. “And how are we supposed to get him out of here?” She glanced up at the ladder.

Renado sighed and motioned his hand. “I’ll carry him on my shoulder. Lift him and place him on me, face down.” Telma and Zelda exchanged a glance, shrugged, and did as ordered. Zelda grabbed him from under the bend in his knees, and Telma grabbed from under his arms. Together, they gently laid him over the older man’s shoulder. Renado held a firm grip on the boy with one hand, and grabbed the ladder with the other. “Zelda, go first. Telma, follow behind me. I need to make sure I keep balance with him.”

Zelda began to climb up the ladder; Renado was quickly on her tail. Telma followed both of them. At one point, she reached up and grabbed Link’s hanging left hand. She saw the faint glow of the triforce on back of his hand. She gasped and immediately released it. Telma shook her head, and continued to follow Renado.

As soon as they all reached the main floor, Telma and Renado began to head out to put Link in the carriage. Zelda stayed inside and grabbed a few of Link’s things. She grabbed a few outfits of his, his boots and his earrings. If he wasn’t going to be at home, she at least wanted him to have a few of his things with him.  After gathering the items, she rushed out to the carriage. The two had already created a bed made of the extra blankets, and Link was placed in it. Renado sat in the back with the boy, while Telma sad in the driver’s seat. Zelda climbed in the back with Renado and Link.

As soon as Telma saw that Zelda was securely in, she whipped Epona and Zelda’s horse into action. The carriage then took off through the Faron woods. Renado began to wrap Link’s ankle. Link’s eyes fluttered open as they passed by the light spring of Ordon, and when he saw a glimpse of the peaceful spring, tears began to form in his eyelids. He clenched his jaw shut and tried not to whimper, but Zelda heard his faint noises and placed her hand on his cheek and dried his eyes. She smiled at him, trying to reassure him.

“I-I-I’m sorry M-Midna…” Link looked up at Zelda, confused and obviously seeing things. “I-I’m sorry I feel this way, I-I know y-you wouldn’t want m-me to…” The boy choked up another sob. “B-b-but I already do.” Link clenched his jaw even harder as the tears began to stream down his face. Zelda frowned; it was heartbreaking to watch him. Sick or not, any memory of Midna haunted him.

Zelda placed her hands on Link’s face and held him in them. She rubbed her thumbs across his eyelids, drying his tears. His eyes opened and tried to focus on her, but Zelda could tell that was impossible for him right now. She knew he was seeing Midna, not her. She bent down to his forehead and gave him a small kiss. “Link, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” She wrapped her hands around his head and pulled it to her shoulder; her chin rested on the top of his head. His memories of Midna were haunting him because he could never see her again, and it hurt to watch a friend go through so much pain. She clenched her jaw and tugged at the boy’s hair. What was she going to do?


	4. Pacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda's only concern is with Link's well being, thus pushing her to strip him of his home.

                Zelda paced around the room in tiny circles, her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Renado had asked her to watch over Link for the time being; while he and Telma prepared an antibiotic ointment for the boy’s infection and gathered supplies for a bind for Link’s ankle. Zelda just wanted the pair to arrive sooner, though. Link had lost consciousness by the time they arrived in Kakariko. Since then, Zelda warily watched his breathing; it was growing more labored and shallow with breath – it was literally becoming a struggle for Link to breathe. It made Zelda feel queasy; thinking that after he went to hell and back is when he falls short of invincible. She pulled her hands up to her temples, exhaling a warm sigh.

            The door at the front of the room creaked open and a woman’s head poked in.  She made eye contact with Zelda, grinned, and continued to open the door. Telma carried in a small tray that held a jar of the antibacterial goop that was for the infected gash on Link’s back, and the cloth and splint needed to wrap his ankle. Renado followed her tail with a pair of homemade crutches in his arms. Zelda anxiously glanced at Link, and then to Telma, gesturing them to focus on him; Link was beginning to look even paler by the minute. She bit her lip and reconnected a strong gaze with the older woman. Telma smiled back, but it was just a guise that hid her fears. Zelda’s attempts to stay optimistic were slowing fading and her face remained neutral.

            Renado leaned the crutches up against the walk, and made his way next to Telma at Link’s bedside. He reached down to the boy’s ankle and rolled up the fabric of his trousers to allow visibility of the swollen and bruised mess. He arched his lips in disgust of the mangled extremity. Renado could only sigh, though, barely looking up at Zelda. “It’s already been healing improperly. He was stuck down there for longer than we had thought.” Renado placed his hands on the boy’s ankle, as if he was mapping it out.

            Zelda felt her throat close only slightly. She pursed her lips and gasped silently. She knew what Renado had to do and she knew that she’d have to take a part in it. Zelda didn’t want to add any more pain to Link than he was already going through, though. He was basically half dead and lying in a bed. Zelda turned her head to look at Link’s face – his lips looked an eerie purple, and with his structure now becoming gaunt, his cheekbones stuck out. Zelda scrunched her brows and closed her eyes. “And what does that mean?” Her voiced wavered – it was a dumb question, but she felt the need to reiterate her scared thoughts to get a confirmation.

            Renado sighed and continued to only eye Link’s crooked joint. He stood there silently for a minute, and then raised his head, mustering enough courage to look Zelda in the eye. His face was filled with unwillingness – he didn’t want to do it as much as Zelda didn’t want to. “In order to correct the healing that isn’t proper, we must break the ankle, again.” He took a pause, prodding at the boy’s ankle with his hand. “If we don’t do so, his ankle will be stuck in an immobile position. He’ll have a hard time getting around and doing what he used to.”

            Zelda nodded, the words stuck in her throat. Her mind raced with everything that could ever possibly hurt him physically, but some did more good rather than bad. She clenched her jaw and caved, releasing a sigh. She placed her hand on Link’s lower leg, to hold it down as Renado did the breaking. Telma held down on Link’s chest, knowing he would shook up when the pain would waken him. Renado saw both women in position, and he gently began to apply pressure to the injury. He noticed Link clench his jaw, even in his state of unconsciousness. All the color in Renado’s faced drained, but he quickly looked away. He grit his teeth and applied all the pressure he could to the boy’s ankle. 

            A loud snap and a scream. Link’s eyes shot wide open and he jumped up, as far as Telma had allowed him to, from lying on his back. His breathing grew frantic, heavy, and quick. His eyes spastically moved from direction to direction in a scared manner. Immediately, Zelda let go of his leg, held his hand, and turned his face to allow their eyes to meet. Link’s pupils were dilated to the point where his blue iris was almost unnoticeable, but she also noticed a familiar fogginess in his focus. “Link, you’re fine. It is just Renado, Telma, and I. We’re going to take care of you,” she spoke in the calmest and reassuring voice that she could attempt. Zelda couldn’t tell if he was even registering the words that flowed from her lips. Hell, she didn’t even know if he could recognize her at the time; Zelda could visibly see the fogginess in the boy’s eyes. All he could do was sit there, wide-eyed and heavily panting.

            His vision broke from Zelda’s and flickered down at his ankle. The faint, fuzzy, unrecognizable, figures of Renado wrapping his ankle and Telma sitting by his side intrigued him while sickly. Link watched the wrapping of the cloth around his source of pain; the cloth was holding two pieces of wood to him, immobilizing his ankle. Link’s horrified expression faded and turned into a vague frown. Zelda only assumed that was his reaction because he couldn’t understand what was happening. Then, Renado finished the wrap with a tight knot. The quick tightness sent a surge of pain up Link’s leg; Link clenched his jaw and tightly shut his eyes. A dismantled groan shook from Link’s throat, although quiet, Telma picked up the almost inaudible sound. 

            The older woman shook her head and opened her mouth, prepared to speak for the boy. “Does it have to be that right, Renado?” She pointed at the wrap, and then nudged her shoulder back towards Link. “He looks like hell.” Her face wasn’t all giggly and giddy, rather her expression held a mixture of neutrality and concern.  Telma’s stern stare never broke from Renado, either.

            The shaman sighed, loosening his grip on the excess cloth he cut off. Renado turned his head slightly toward Telma, but never looked directly at her. “It needs to. It needs to compress the bone in the correct way to allow it to heal right. He may be in pain now, but it’s better than having it permanently useless farther down the road.” Renado shrugged his shoulders and laid the excess cloth aside, replacing its place with the jar of antibacterial goop. He looked up at Zelda. “I need you to get his shirt off; I need to rub this on his back.” He then turned his head to look directly at Telma. “Once Zelda take off his shirt, help him up to a sitting position so I can get to his infection.” The plump woman only nodded in response.

            Zelda began to undo each button, one by one. The undershirt Link had worn for months on end was fringed at its ends, tinted from its original purity, ripped from the many swordfights, and stained with blood – Link’s blood. Zelda cringed and undid the final button. She slipped his arms from the sleeves and yanked off the worthless shirt, trashing it immediately. Zelda returned to the boy’s bedside and aided Telma in sitting him up. She gripped his shoulder in her hand and shuddered at how warm he was; his fever had been rising without them knowing. The only aspect that caught Telma’s attention was how much of his shape he had lost. He was beginning to look like a prepubescent child.

            Renado slathered a sufficient amount of the antibiotic cream on Link’s infection. When he was satisfied, he placed the jar on the nightstand and reached for the gauze. He began to wrap the cloth around the boy’s upper body, protecting the wound from further infection. Renado was placing a decent amount of pressure on Link’s back while wrapping the wound. In response, Link inaudibly groaned and flicked his eyes at Zelda. She wasn’t paying attention to his facial expression, though; she was watching Renado’s movements.

            As Renado tied off the bandage and removed his hands, Link silently sighed as the pain subdued. Telma left Link in Zelda’s arms as she went to get the boy a new shirt, since Zelda recently discarded his previously dilapidated shirt. Link was hunched over, unable to hold himself up, in Zelda’s arms. Renado was speaking quite words to Telma as she rummaged through the dresser in the room. She only nodded, shook her head a few times, and sneered at the man before he left the room. Telma pulled an oversized tee from the dresser, held it up in the air, compared it to Link, and shrugged. She brought the shirt over and slipped it over the boy’s head.

            Zelda slowly lowered him back to lying on his pillows. She tried to smile at him, but it was obvious he was slowly drifting away from them; he could barely keep his eyelids open. Zelda’s vague moment of happiness quickly faded into a hopeless frown. Telma reached over and placed her hand on Zelda’s shoulder, a grin on her face in attempt to cheer the younger of the two. Zelda looked at her, made a fake smile, and brushed the woman’s hand off of her. Both sighed and focused on Link. An eerie silence filled the room.

            “I want to take him to the castle with me,” Zelda spoke first, biting her lip immediately afterwards. She took Link’s hand in her own. The faint remnants of the triforce illuminated on the top of his hand. She smiled faintly, but the happiness left her when she looked up back at Telma. The older woman had an overjoyed, but subtle grin on her face.

            “If you’re taking him to the castle, you need to rest, dear,” the older woman chuckled to herself. She toyed with Link’s hair without noticing. “I can prepare the horses to run the carriage for you tomorrow.” Telma took her hand from Link’s hair and returned it to Zelda’s shoulder, grinning at the same time.

            Zelda nodded in a cheesy way. Her cheeks turned red and a fake laugh exited her lips. “Thanks for the offer Telma, but I’ll just tie Epona to my horse, so we don’t have to take your carriage.” She didn’t look the woman in the eye; she knew Telma would be confused at her decision. Zelda had an idea, though. Before Telma could even open her mouth, Zelda sputtered out her words quickly, “I’m going to head to bed. I will see you in the morning.” She gave the barely conscious boy a kiss on his cheek – his skin still burned against her lips.

            Telma waved Zelda goodbye, but the young woman rushed one in return before running up to her room. The plump woman only shrugged, and sat herself back on the stool by Link’s bedside. The frail boy’s eyes wavered over at her, and she smiled, holding his hand. “You’re the hero I’ve always known. You’ll make it out strong. You’re going to be in great hands at the castle.” She giggled a slight bit. “Maybe under Zelda’s wing you’ll learn a few _things_ as she helps you.”

            Link frowned at Telma. That took her by surprise. She only smiled though. “Ah, you’re still into _her,_ I see.” Telma’s tan cheeks flared red, her cheeky smile only growing wider. “Most everybody thinks you two are just friends, but I know it’s more than that.” Link’s face flushed a faint pink and slightly snarled at the woman. She snorted slightly, tightening her grip on his hand. “I’m only messing with you.” Telma’s other hand ruffled his already matted bangs. “Since it appears you can still understand us despite your state, I’d figure I’d try to get some sort of laughter from you but it appears that-“

            Link’s eyes finally closed and he fell into another light slumber. Telma smirked, slipping her hand from his. She stood from her stool, reached down to the foot of the bed, and pulled the blanket up over the boy. If the medicine were to work as supposed to, his fever would break in the night and he would get chills. She didn’t want him to get too cold. Satisfied with what she did, Telma propped her hands on her hips and watched over Link.

            Telma walked over to the window and looked out at the moon and the flowing stars. She sighed, realizing that in an opposite realm, somebody else was staring at the same moon _he_ laid under and longed for _him_ ; as he longed for _her_. To see somebody so lonely was depressing, even to Telma. “Nayru, bless him with your wisdom; keep his head stable. I don’t want him to end up dead in the street, like all those others with such a sorrow situation. Farore, he’s had enough courage to withstand this long, give him more to stand through his own version of hell. Din, give him power, mentally and physically, to withstand this fallow time. He is the hero you three chose, keep him safe.” She ended her prayer with a sigh.

            “Just keep him safe.”

* * *

 

His head was foggy and it hurt. Link pulled his hand up to his head and held it. Zelda was pulling him up and out of bed. He was sore all over – he didn’t want to move. He looked up at her and sighed. She seemed overly excited, almost like he had died. He could vaguely remember the past few days; apparently he had broken his ankle and has an infection. His illness was under control now, but even the thought of his ankle brought Link’s face to a grimace. Zelda sighed, released his hand, and grabbed the pair of crutches from across the room. She placed them underneath Link’s arms, and helped pull him up. He cringed with the movement, but once he was standing, the pain slightly faded.

            Link tried to grin at Zelda, but it was obvious he was still pain stricken. Zelda clasped her hands together and grew a cheesy smile. “Ah, they’re perfect! Renado was unsure if they would work, because he didn’t have you awake and standing whilst making them.” She reached over and grabbed Link’s hand. “Now, to your ride. Follow me!” She began to pull him along. Zelda’s pace quickened while she heard the slow but steady _clop clop clop_ of the crutches striking the floor. Zelda held open the front doors of the inn for Link, and he strutted right through. He looked pale in the face, though – quite nauseated, in fact.

            Link stood on the porch of the inn to regain his breath. He wanted to double over and vomit. Not moving for days really impacted his stamina. He assumed it was the illness that was the source of his prevailing nausea. He warily watched Zelda tack up her own horse and Epona, tying his horse’s reins to the back of her Zelda’s saddle. Link stared at Zelda with inquisitive eyes when she gestured for him to come to her, for him to get on Epona.

            “You have to be crazy, Zelda,” Link coughed, sticking his wrapped up ankle out at her to see. “I can’t ride like this.” He heavily relied on the crutches to keep himself upright, besides that, he slumped over in a slouch.

            Zelda shook her head. Link raised a brow and the upper corner of his lip. A mumbled rode on the air leaving his lips, but it went unnoticed. “You’re getting on. You’re just going to sit and relax. Epona is tied to me; you’re coming back to Hyrule castle with me.”

            Almost instantaneously, all the color that had remained in Link’s face was drained from him. He had too many heartfelt memories of _her_ from there; too many memories that strummed away at his heart strings. Stutters and fake words ran from Link’s lips to Zelda’s ears. He was panicking, he didn’t want to go back – but that was only part of the process of adapting.

            Zelda reached for Link as she noticed his knees had begun to shake. She firmly clutched his shoulders, forcing their eyes to make contact. This was the first time in almost two weeks that they held true eye contact. Of all those recently, Link had been either too out of it to register the moment or he couldn’t see a damn thing. Now, he stared at her wide-eyed, like a lost puppy.

            “You will be fine,” she reassured him. “You will be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. You will be safe.” Zelda slightly rotated her head and gestured for Telma and Renado to help him onto Epona. Telma immediately headed to them.

            The duo lifted the skinny boy with ease; they had gotten him high enough so he was able to place his good foot in the stirrup and place himself on the saddle. Once he was situated on the saddle, Link tightly gripped the horn of the saddle – he needed to the whole time, his left leg was useless to help him keep his balance. Telma tied his crutches to the back of Link’s saddle as Renado gave Zelda a leg up into her saddle. Zelda plopped down on her white beauty, slipping her feet in the stirrups and taking the reins in her hands. She turned to face Link one last time before heading off. She gave him a grin, and then the two horses and their riders began the small trek back to the castle.

            Once the two had left the vicinity of Kakariko, Link spoke. “Why are you so worried about me?” His voice echoed with anger and confusion. She couldn’t pinpoint one emotion that he was struck with.

            Zelda gasped in her throat, her expression widened and she sneered out of annoyance. She was slightly offended by his little retort, but she knew that he was a scared as she was – she knew he didn’t really mean it. “You’re the goddesses chosen hero, you saved Hyrule; you saved the Twilit Kingdom; you saved me; you saved Midna.” She heard the choking of Link’s voice.

            His words faltered, but he still spoke with the full meaning that he intended. “I understand I did all that. But I’m different now. Why do you care so much about me _now_?” His face was slightly red. He was holding his composure, but it was obvious it was becoming more difficult.

            Zelda sighed. She halted her white horse at the start of the newly repaired bridge to the east. “People change, Link.” She glanced back at him for a second. “Even you. Despite that you are the goddesses’ chosen hero, you are susceptible to anything a person is; that’s because you are one.” She squeezed the barrel of her horse and shortened her reins – the white beauty began to walk across the bridge and Epona was dragged along.

            Link shook his head. He didn’t want to explain how he felt, it was too much. It would be too much of a burden for Zelda. He just swayed his hips along with the saddle, which matched the rhythm of Epona’s strides. He gripped at the horse’s blond mane and shoved his face into it. His throat was beginning to hurt and the waves of nausea began to flood over him again.

            Zelda shrugged at Link’s silence. She figured the boy had enough of a war going on. She wasn’t going to be the ass that makes it worse. She simply sighed and focused more on her riding posture, making it perfect, as she was taught as a child. Link simply buried his face deeper into the horse’s mane and neck. He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t need to look around to know where they were. The memories Link felt bubbling up in him triggered a towering flame of nostalgia, which consumed every last bit of him. He remembered _her_ desperate hour, the hour when _she_ almost died. He barely got to Zelda in time to save _her_. Link felt his heart race and sweat began to appear on his face. He just wanted a place to call his home, _she_ was home to him.

            Now he was homeless.


	5. Link, meet Eric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda takes Link to the castle, where he meets his soon-to-become best friend.

Link remained silent as Zelda led the horses back to the stables. His hands stayed tight around Epona’s mane and his face strained; his eyes looked like those of a child that had just witnessed murder. Zelda sighed as she dismounted her horse; she reached for her reins and brought them over her horse’s head. She tied them to a nearby fencepost. She walked over to Epona’s side to help Link dismount, but he appeared unresponsive to her. He was in all consciousness, but his face was blank: his eyes glassy, his mouth parted slightly, and the ghostly pale shade of his skin. The betwixt amount of fear and anger that flooded the boy’s was easily noticed by Zelda. She presumed it was a flashback, but it wasn’t certain. Zelda felt bad for Link, he was going through a lot of emotional trauma for an eighteen year old boy. But, she was the princess, soon to be queen, and she faced a lot of trauma by all the stress of the title. He wasn’t alone in his feelings of hopelessness.

            Link prevailed in his frozen state for several minutes, before subliminally beginning to dismount to his left. It was habit for him to dismount to the left – it was how he was taught to ride. But, when his foot touched the stirrup and his weight shifted to his ankle, he yelped and slid back in the saddle. He cursed underneath his breath before noticing Zelda standing at the shoulder of his horse. Once he made eye contact with her, his face filled with a bright pink hue.

            Link’s lips quivered as the words tumbled out. “I-I’m sorry, Zelda. I didn’t realize you were standing before me.” He stared down at his horse’s withers, his face growing paler and sterner. Link couldn’t keep looking at Zelda; he felt guilt bubble up inside him for his faulty actions.  The tips of his ears felt hot but numb; he must’ve offended her, he was sure of it. Link wanted to hide his face from her; he closed his eyes and covered his hot face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words were muffled from under his hands.

            A small chuckle. Link’s ears perked, his brows raised, and his eyes shot wide open. He slowly pulled his hands from his face, simultaneously turning to face Zelda. A small smile warmed her face, welcoming Link. His expression only made it visible to Zelda his growing confusion. She could only smile at Link, though. “It’s fine.” She blinked at him, looking him directly in the eye. “I don’t mind, really. I consider you equal to me, as I am equal to you.” Link furrowed his eyebrows and parted his mouth in a slight frown.

            “But,” the words fell from his lips. “I am not of royalty, as you are.” Link turned in his saddle to face Zelda as she reached behind him to untie the crutches. Zelda shook her head at him and continued to reach onto the mare’s back.  She was getting slightly annoyed at Link’s little act, pretending to be so innocent – acting he was nothing more than one of her followers. Zelda pursed her lips and removed the crutches from the saddle. She strutted around the rear of the horse – to help Link dismount to the right.  

            Zelda dragged a stool up to Epona’s side, and reached her hands up and helped Link slide off the saddle and onto his good foot. She brought him the crutches and helped situate them under his arms. She began to lead their horses into their stalls respectively. Link followed slowly, watching Zelda’s every move with his horse. As she removed the tack from her horse, Link placed himself on a bale of hay lying near the stalls. Zelda began to unbuckle Epona’s bridle, removing the bit from the mare’s mouth. “I don’t know if you care anymore, but you saved my life at one point.” She wiped the bit off with a cloth before hanging the bridle next to the horse’s stall. “I owe you, Link.” She then bent down to unbuckle the girth from the saddle, then lifting the saddle and girth off the mare. “I don’t care who you think you’ve become. I know who you were, and you did miraculous things that I could never repay you for.” Zelda laid the saddle just outside the stall door before heading back in with a curry and brush. “You and I have a connection that cannot be broken. I don’t feel above you in any way.” She poked her head outside the stall for a moment to see Link sitting on the bale, fumbling with his thumbs. “I think of you as a friend.”

            Link’s face gaped. He slowly craned his neck to look back at Zelda, who was exiting the stall, locking the door behind her. She went over to Link and grabbed a pile of hay from the bale he was on, and split it between the two horses. Zelda returned to Link; she looked down at him, placing her hand on his head and removing the bangs from his eyes. Link looked at Zelda like a lost puppy. She offered her hand to him. “Let’s go get you cozy inside. I don’t want you getting any sicker than you already are.” She smiled at the dirty blonde and he took her hand. Zelda helped pull Link to his feet as he firmly grasped his crutches. They began to head to the castles from the stables.

            Zelda opened the door to the castle for Link, but from the corner of her eye she saw a sly figure dash through her peripheral vision. She formed an under bite of her jaw, and growled in her throat. Zelda shooed Link into the castle, closing the door behind them. She excused herself for a moment, and entered into the guards’ lounge. Zelda scanned the faces of each of the men, and then saw who she was looking for. She scurried to his side and tapped on his shoulder.

            The young man slowly turned to face her, and his freckled face flushed red. Zelda spoke. “I acquire your assistance,” the words flowed from her lips like a river, while her face remained stern. The guard remained speechless in shock. “Sir, please come with me. I will override your duties for now.” The guard shook from his state of utter shock as Zelda turned on the balls of her feet and began to strut back to where Link was. She looked over her shoulder and gesticulated for the guard to follow. He jumped and immediately caught up with Zelda.

            The young guard walked side by side with Zelda until she stopped by Link, who was leaning up against the wall. Link gazed up and down at the man next to Zelda, his uniform was clean and free of dishevelment. His record was clean and so was his face. Zelda had made mental notes of Link’s and the guard’s resemblance by the structures of their faces. However, the guard was much taller than Link, his cheeks were freckled, his hair was dark gingery red, and his voice hummed at a slightly deeper pitch. Link’s lips only rose in a small sneer at the young man – the guard responded with turned a dark crimson and facing his feet. Quickly, the disgust left Link’s face, and he turned to Zelda: his eye begged, his bottom lip puckered out more than usual, and his brows scrunched close. She only shook her head to the boy – he sighed.

            “Link, this is Eric. Eric, this is Link.” Zelda made a motion with her hands to cue that the two should shake hands and introduce themselves.

            The guard listened, holding out his right hand to Link and grinning. “Nice to meet you – as Zelda introduced me, I’m Eric. Eric Koriku.” Link only scowled at Eric’s offer. The guard, ashamed, pulled his hand back in a bashful manner.

            “Why are you so fucking tall?” Link muttered at the young man who stood before him. His nose was scrunched up and a small frown traced his mouth. Eric’s face was flushed with hurt and embarrassment. He had muttered something to himself before expunging his craven expression. Zelda only stood between the two men with wide eyes.

            But then her pupils narrowed. She glared at Link, grabbing the boy’s bag of belongings and shoving it in Eric’s arms. “Please escort Link to his room and watch him until I come up.” Zelda was looking at Eric directly in the eye; her voice stolid, dour, and impervious to the repeated glances from Link. “I need to attend to an issue quickly. I shouldn’t be more than half an hour. Please try to get alone for the time being.” Zelda specifically glared at Link with her last few words. Link just shrugged and looked away from her.

            Eric slung the small bag of Link’s belongings over his left shoulder and Link over the other. The blonde’s face flashed red; it was obvious he didn’t like his “special treatment” for being injured. Zelda smirked at Link, giggling at his diffident expression, and then turned and exited out the castle doors. She patted down the skirt of her gown, freeing it from any snags and allowing it to flow loosely over her feet. She pulled any last strands of stray hair from her face. Zelda’s expression remained grim and serious. “Impa. Please come out.”

            The sly figure swiftly weaved from ledge to ledge, and then landing directly in front of Zelda. The princess didn’t have a reaction; she didn’t even flinch. The hooded woman turned to Zelda, lowering her hood from her head, exposing her bleach blonde tendril of hair. A smirk filled her cheeks. “So you were right about him, eh?” A small chuckle. Impa began to undo her cloak.

            Zelda shook her head. “Partially.” Impa had paused while unbuttoning her cloak, and raised one brow at Zelda, cuing an explanation. She sighed, “His mentality remains, but it is unstable. It appears that shortly after returning home he fell down the ladder to his basement, breaking his ankle. Also, one of his war wounds had gotten infected. It was right on his spine, he was quite sickly for a few days. He was finally well enough for me to take him here.” Zelda stared at the cobblestone path under her feet. “I have an uncanny fear that things will decline. Not necessarily in physical state, but mental. He’s gotten a bit wordy.”

            Impa smirked, laying a hand on Zelda’s shoulder, causing her to look up at the tan woman. “Zelda, he’s going to be fine. He’s the goddesses’ chosen hero. They wouldn’t let anything go wrong for him; especially after all they put him through. Practically, they used him like they used you and I.” The words stung Zelda with unfeigned truth; Impa’s words were bitter and harsh, but they were reality. The goddesses’ altruistic messenger wouldn’t lie to her.

            “So what are you going to be doing for him here?” Impa questioned the princess. Zelda gulped and her face flushed a faint pink. She didn’t know; she didn’t have a plan; she just wanted him to be out of harm’s way until he was stable again. The small smirk left Impa’s face and it transformed into a small frown. “You don’t have a clue, do you, my grace?” Zelda could only shake her head in response. Although Impa remained chivalrous, Zelda knew she was looking down on her.

            Impa sighed, closing her eyelids and shoving her hands into her pockets. A small breeze picked up in the small castle road. Impa’s tendril and Zelda’s braid began to float in the breeze as the two women stood in silence. A small rumble from the sky called Impa to open her eyes. The sun was still visible, but it was overcast and thick and heavy clouds were pouring in from the north. Impa reached for her cloak, slipping it over her shoulders and fumbling with the buttons. Zelda held her hands together at the front of her gown as she remained speechless.

            “I better be off.” Impa tapped the princess on the shoulder. Zelda jumped from her slumber of deep thought by the woman’s touch. Impa was analyzing the castle walls, looking for the best place to jump. Zelda followed the tan woman around the walls as she readied herself. Impa faced Zelda and pointed to the dark clouds of the north. “It’s going to storm soon. I need to get to my lodging before the weather becomes inclement. I suggest you head inside, too, your grace. Catch up with your little hero.” She winked at Zelda, who parted her mouth slightly. Before the first truculent crack of lightning echoed in the distance, Impa had sprung into action and got over the castle walls with ease. Zelda stood, unable to form words, and slightly grinned. She didn’t understand what about Impa that made her feel so happy, the woman just did.

* * *

 

            The young guard laid the fail boy on his cot. The dirty blonde’s arms were tight; his face cross and flushed pink; his teeth were clenched. He watched warily as Eric too his possessions from the sack and placing them on the nightstand and dresser. Link sighed, reaching for his crutches. He slipped them under his arms and hauled himself to a standing position, despite the pain they caused. Link began the slow walk to the balcony, the echo of _clop clop clop_ following him with each step he’d make. Eric raised his head when he heard the beating of the crutches on the floor, and then the creaking of the balcony door. He placed the sack of Link’s items next to the cot, stood, and followed Link to the balcony. He saw Link stand there looking out over Hyrule field; leaning against the railing in a slouch, his crutches set aside, his left ankle being babied held up in the air. Eric sighed and frowned, walking out to the balcony with the boy.

            Link heard the taller man’s heavy footsteps on the stone balcony. He sneered and rolled his eyes. “Go away,” Link muttered from under his breath, his voice was hoarse and raspy. Eric took note of the puffy, pink skin around Link’s eyes and the visible layer of tears forming over his eyes. The young guard placed a hand on the thin boy’s shoulder, only for it to be brushed away. Eric’s grew in depth.

            “No,” he grumbled. “I won’t. Now, _Link_ , call me by my name. Zelda told you my name was Eric Koriku; I prefer to just be known as Eric. I will address you by your name, so please return the favor to me. It would be greatly appreciated.” The shorter of the two men snorted and mumbled several inaudible words. Eric sighed, reaching into the small satchel on his upper belt, pulling out a cigar and match. He held the wad of tobacco in his teeth as he lit the other end of the cigar. Link watched carefully as Eric pulled in a breath and blew a puff of smoke out his nostrils; he sneered at the guard. Eric caught the glares of the younger from the corners of his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind that I smoke.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Zelda forbids it in the castle, and I find it a stress reliever. And guarding the princess and castle is tiring and nerve-wracking, y’know?”

            Link’s face was full of disgust. He watched as Eric breathed through the burning tobacco several times before sighing, his face showing full defeat. He fell for temptation. “Damn it, give me one.” Link didn’t look up at the man with the cigar. He just hung his head over the railing and watched the storm clouds coming from up near the Zora’s Domain. His face was hot; he felt guilty, at the same time he didn’t. Eric smirked, reaching into his small bag, pulling out a second cigar and match, laying them in Link’s palm. The boy’s eyes widened, his gaze flickering up towards Eric.

            “T-thank you.” Link looked as his feet, and then back up at Eric. “I really didn’t think you’d give me one.” He rubbed the nape of his neck with his empty hand, smiling and blushing at the taller guard. Eric returned the look with reposed grin. Link took the cigar in his teeth, lighting the match up against the stone wall, taking the small flame to the end of his cigar. When the rolled tobacco caught flame, Link put out the match, then took the cigar between his index and middle fingers. He sucked in a breath through the cigar, but immediately pulled it from his mouth and doubled over in a fit of coughing. Eric smirked, and patted the boy’s back. Embarrassed by his failure, Link’s face gradated into a crimson red: he shot up back into his standing position and took the cigar back in his teeth.

Eric smiled at Link. The younger boy smirked back. Link pulled in a small breath, and released a puff of smoke through his nostrils. He coughed slightly into his shoulder, but he returned his face to the guard. “Sorry that I’ve been an annoying mess up.” He gazed down the railing; he saw Zelda and another woman conversing. “Things haven’t been going well, I’m sure you can tell, and I’ve had a hot temper.” Link returned to looking Eric in the eye. “I hope you can forgive me for being an ass, although we’ve only known each other for maybe fifteen minutes.” He offered his hand to Eric, who took it firmly in a shake.

“I think I can understand in ways,” Eric spoke in an unfeigned manner to Link, releasing a puff of smoke from his lips at the same time. He shrugged, facing the boy. “I know for sure I haven’t been through all the stuff you have, heck, you saved Hyrule from doom.” Eric smirked at the boy, who remained blank in emotion. “But, I have a vague conceptualization of your feelings.” He flicked some of the ash from his cigar over the railing, then to return it to his lips. Eric bit his lip, mentally debated, and then opened his mouth. “If you don’t mind, what happened?”

Link sighed, his face drained of color. He gulped, blowing out a ring of smoke, and stood tall. “I love her.” His gaze was unfocused and his lips quivered, he put the cigar back to his lips and sucked it in. “She left. I’m alone. I can’t see her gain, either.” She didn’t want to leave, but she had to.” Droplets formed in his eyes and overflowed down his cheeks. Link cursed under his breath. He turned away from Eric and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves. “Damn it.”

Eric placed a hand on Link’s shoulder. “You don’t have to hide,” he sighed. “Your reaction says it all.” He grinned at the shorter boy, taking the cigar back in his mouth. Eric had realized Link wasn’t even of legal age to even smoke with him, but he shrugged it off. He needed it. His stressed were obviously straining him. Link raised his head back up to look at Eric, his face neutralized: his frown disappeared and was replaced with the cigar between his lips. Link’s eyes flickered down to the small pathway below them where Zelda had been; she was gone.

Eric watched the sky as heavy clouds rolled in from the mountains, he frowned. “We should go inside. Zelda wouldn’t want you out here in the rain.” He nudged his shoulders up to the sky; Link followed their direction, and shrugged. Eric reached his arms around the younger and held him tight to his chest. The boy wrapped his skinny arms around the guard, held them tight, and whispered words of thanks. Eric then released the boy from his grasp, helping him situate his crutches underneath his arms. Once Link could stand on his own, Eric let go of him and held open the balcony doors. Link slowly plodded in. The boy sat himself on his small cot, leaning his crutches up against the wall nearby. Eric smiled at him; Link just shrugged and smirked.  Eric reached into the smack satchel on his belt and pulled out a handful of cigars and matches. He opened Link’s palm and placed him in his hands. He winked at the boy. “For when you need them.” He patted Link’s shoulder, and turned to the door. Eric reached for the doorknob when somebody on the other side opened it for him.

Eric stared blankly at Zelda as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Smoking again, I see.” Her lips were pursed; she reached a hand forward and snatched the lit cigar from the guard’s lips. She threw the wadded tobacco on the floor and crushed it under the ball of her foot. Eric gulped, uneasily grinned, and rubbed the nape of his neck with his hand. “No smoking on castle grounds, do you hear me? Do it outside on your free time. I don’t want my castle to smell like that horrid smoke.” Zelda walked right past Eric, as he stood frozen in the doorway. He broke his trance, hung his head, and walked out the door, looking back at Link warily.

Zelda looked around the room and scrunched her nose at the icky odor. She had just put Eric’s cigar out, but the smell of smoke lingered. Zelda shook her head in disgust and turned to face Link in his bed. She only could gape at the sight. The boy was leant up against the wall, a lit cigar in his fingers, occasionally being brought to his mouth for a puff of smoke. Zelda’s face turned hot; she clenched her fists; gritted her teeth; and glared at the young hero. “What in goddesses’ name are you doing?”

Link raised his head to Zelda’s voice, and waved at her. “I’m taking a break.” He shrugged, waving the lit cigar in his hands. “Relieving some stress, obviously.” He pulled the cigar to his lips and blew some from his lips immediately afterward. He turned back to the princess with a dumb grin plastered on his face. He was only met with a furious and stern glare. Link raised a brow at her. Before he could even speak again, a hand was raised and sent across his face with tremendous force, causing the cigar to fly from his lips and onto the floor. Link took his hand to his burning cheek; Zelda’s hand had been spitting with fire as his face was flooded with pungent pain.

“What the hell was that?” Link raised his eyes at her. His hands still clasped around his bright red cheek. He watched as Zelda walked over to his cigar on the floor, uttered words of disgust under her breath, and then crushed it with her foot like she had done to Eric’s cigar. Link sighed as she turned away from the pile of broken ash on the floor and knelt next to him on his bed.

“That was you being stupid.” Her eyes were not dearth of seriousness as she glared at Link. “You’re only eighteen. You still have your whole life ahead of you. I’m not going to allow you to ruin it with this crap.” She waved her hand back to the pile of ash. Link didn’t look at her, or what she was gesturing to; he already knew. Zelda grabbed his ear, which resulted in his face flushing pink and a squeal of protest, to force him to look at her.

Link’s lower lip was slightly puckered out as his eyebrows were scrunched. “Are you sure I have my whole life?” He was raising his voice at her, although they were face to face. “Because as far as I’m concerned, my life feels pretty empty.”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic, Link. Think about all the things you have yet to do! Thank about all that can be done!” Zelda’s voice began to rise to a shout. “You still have so much potential – you can become whatever you want. You shouldn’t waste that potential with a stupid cigar.”

“How is a cigar going to get in the way?” He snapped at Zelda. “Besides, the only thing I ever wanted to do is literally impossible now! I can’t even see Midna again, how do you think I feel?”

“Don’t be so doubtful!” Zelda stood from the bed and stared down at the boy with intensity.

“How would I do it though?” Link shouted at Zelda. He waved his arms along with his anger as tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes. “The last time I checked, Midna shattered the Mirror of Twilight. And according to what she told me, if it’s broken, it won’t work!” Link’s fists were tight, allowing a pale while to bleed around his knuckles.

“Calm down!” Zelda looked down at the boy. “Stop fretting over the past!” She was trying to reassure Link, but she was failing. She let her opinions slip. “What happened has happened, there’s no changing it. You should just forget the whole thing and continue to live the rest of your life! It’s been a while since it happened – get over it.”

Link’s face turned a ghostly shade. His expression was blank, but filled with hurt. “This only happened only two damned weeks ago.” Link’s voice was quiet, but the tension was building in his tone. It was growing louder as he spoke. “But, you know what? It’s still affecting me now!” He practically screamed as tears flooded down his cheeks. Link’s eyes were splitting a fiery frustration, yet, they still contained sadness to them.

Zelda gawked at the boy. He looked like he was dying, pleading his last wish to her. But, it was Zelda who wanted to persuade him. “Just try your best to forget her. There are other plenty of other girls like Ilia!”

“You’re wrong.” Link’s eyes were stone set on Zelda. They were hurt. They were angry. They were saddened. They were troubled. “You wouldn’t know!” Link’s eyes were shut tight, despite the tears that still continued to flow down his cheeks. His jaw was clenched shut. That was when their scream fest ended on a tense silence. Zelda stood awkwardly as Link climbed under the covers of his bed. He wrapped himself up into a fetal position, despite the pain it caused. Zelda sighed, reaching into her side satchel, and pulled out a small, translucent, shard of glass. It was from the mirror.  She saw her frown in the small reflection it gave of her.

“Take mine.” The boy mumbled from under the sheets. Zelda noticed the shard, all wrapped up in a cloth, lying on his night stand. She picked it up, analyzing its shape; it was larger than hers – it was from more towards the center of the mirror. It had the complete emblem of the triforce in the center, and faint markings of the other pattern on the edges. Zelda sighed, looking at the mound underneath the covers. She slowly made her way to Link’s door. As she was about to blow his candle out, a truculent bolt of lightning struck, shortly followed by a thunderous boom that echoed through the castle that rattled the floor. Zelda decided to allow the candle to go out on its own. She opened the door, and walked out into the hallway, slowly shutting the door behind her.

Zelda entered the hallway to find Eric leaning up against the wall, his head staring at his feet. She held both shards of the mirror in her hands. Eric caught eye of the shining shards and nodded. Zelda stood there, debating whether to go through with her plans. Now, she was almost sure it was necessary to go ahead with her idea. It would be very beneficial to Link’s health. Zelda stood on her toes, tapping Eric on the shoulder. He looked over at her, brushing his gingery bangs from his face.

“Tomorrow, we will implement it.”


	6. 'You're not old enough to drink'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a drink is all somebody wants to wash down the memories.

            It had been two days. Link had heard knocks at his door several times; he hadn’t bothered to get up to check who it had been, though. In fact, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed since the dispute with Zelda. Link just lay in his cot, without motivation, and stared blankly into empty space. His eyes remained heavy and stinging under the rays of sun that peeked in through the window. It was just past sunrise and the sunlight flashed in Link’s room. He turned his head skyward, preventing the sun from glaring into his eyes.

Link stared at the ceiling, running one hand through his mess of hair on his head, and nibbling at the thumbnail of his other. His eyes rolled in their sockets, analyzing each crack and imperfection embedded in the stone walls. Sighing, Link blinked several times, and then met his gaze with a small leather sack. The bag was full and lying on his dresser across the room. Link raised a brow, sitting himself up in bed. He hadn’t noticed the sack until now, and his curiosity of its contents was growing by the minute.

            Link pulled himself over to allow his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. He swung them back and forth, back and forth in a childish manner. He stared at the floor, wincing due to the slight discomfort rooting from his left ankle; he had removed his splint yesterday, but he still had to keep it wrapped.  Link sighed. He knew he would have to stand and walk – he wanted to see what was in the bag. Slowly, Link began to stand, placing all his weight on his right foot.  He raised himself and balanced himself on one foot. Then, he gradually began to apply pressure on his left side. Link cringed. His ankle felt like it was on fire; it stung, it cramped, it echoed a bitter sensation.  Despite the pain, he continued to stand on both feet, his weight adjusted to his right side, without his crutches. Link’s eyes were opened wide. His cheeks were drained of their rosy color. Link shook his head, though, dispersing the strands of fear that remained.

            The blonde boy gulped, lifted his left foot and placed it in front of him. His knees shook until his balanced was confirmed, and his weight was shifted, unequally, on both feet. He then gradually began to shift his weight to his left foot as he lifted his right. His face grew tight and bereft of color: the excruciating pain clawed at him as he was frozen in his circumstance.  Link bit his lip, holding in his screams, as he resumed from his mental pause, and continued to place his right foot adjacent to his left. He kept on hobbling, left foot then right, until he was directly in front of the dresser. He doubled over, pressing his hands on the top of the dresser. He held himself up as his head hung; sweat was bubbled all over Link’s ghostly skin; his breathing had grown heavy due to the pain – he panted rapidly to regain his breath. The boy stood there, without moving, for several minutes. Some of the color in his cheeks returned and his breathing slowed. Link raised himself to stand as upright as he could.

            Link reached for the sack, pulling at the yarn which cinched it together. The mouth of the bag opened wide under his tugging and pulling, allowing him to examine the supple insides. He reached his hand in and it met with a soft fabric. Link wrapped his fingers around it and tugged it from the bag. Once he unfolded it, he held the garment up in the air to see what it was. Immediately, his face flashed a bright red: despite all he had been through, he still had innocence to, more personal, subjects. A clean pair of undergarments was in his hands. Link’s face was hot, since he knew that it was mostly likely Zelda who prepared the small bag for him. He ended up placing the pair of underwear on the dresser beside the sack. He figured it was only clean clothes, nothing with a sneaky intention.

            Link reached his hand back into the bag, and pulled out a pair of trousers. They were a tan, jean-like material that was similar to the pants he had worn for the past year and a half. They were similar to the trousers he would wear back in Ordon. He smirked at the fabric he held up; he was satisfied with them. Link placed the trousers on top of the undergarments that lay on the dresser. He then pulled out the remaining clothing from the sack, immediately throwing it to the ground in a panic. His eyes were wide and he gawked at the garment. He didn’t want any more reminders of the “destiny” he had to fulfill. He didn’t want anything to remind him of _her_. He didn’t want to accept what was before him, but his clothing conditions said otherwise: the old tunic he had on held a musty odor of sweat and illness, and the odor irked him.

Link stared down at the tunic: it was forest green and was practically identical to the tunic entrusted to him by the goddesses. Although he hated the garment that was given to him, he felt disgusting in his current attire. Link began to slip off his shirt, pulling the disheveled fabric over his head, leaving his skin bare: exposing the obvious scar that cascaded down his back. The rough skin ran down his spine to the small of his back. It was the permanent reminder of his hell.

            Link proceeded to slip off the trousers from his waist, letting them fall to his feet. He lifted each foot from the fabric on the floor. He stood in the middle of the room, stripped of all but his underwear, and stared at the mirror. He had grown thin: all his strength had left him in the past few weeks. He looked like a typical teenage boy who studied an easy trade that typically the women would learn: he looked as skinny as Hyrulean soldier before training. Link sighed, placing his hands on his hips. His eyes jolted open: he wasn’t expecting to feel his hipbones to pungently stick out his sides and poke at his hands. He hadn’t been like that before. He always had a thick lining of muscle between his bones and his skin; now that layer barely existed. Link’s neutral face mellowed into a frown. He took his fingers through his hair, sweeping his bangs from his face, and then raising a brow at his reflection. He traced the outline of his cheekbones with his finger: they jutted out from under his eyes on his gaunt face.

            He sighed; he knew there were other bones that stuck out from his body, and he knew they weren’t supposed to do that. Link removed his hand from his face and took it to his lower half. He wrapped his fingers around the bow on the drawstring of his undergarments, and pulled the two strands of string to loosen the waistband. He shoved his thumbs on the inside of his waistband, sighed, and then pulled the fabric down just enough to hide himself. His hipbones were revealed. His reflection only showed the disappointment that filled Link’s eyes. With all that has happened to him, all he felt was like he was lost. He gibed his frustrations under his breath, and reached for the clean undergarments from the small pile and laid them atop. Link fixed his thumbs under the waistband, and continued to slip off his current pair, then quickly replacing them with the new and clean undergarments.

            “Nice butt, boy.” A faceless voice entered through the slightly ajar balcony door. Link jumped, stumbled, and fell to his knees. He quickly covered himself, although he was already hidden by the new undergarments; he whipped his head around the face the entrance of the stranger voice. Link’s cheeks were bright red, but his long hair covered his blush from the owner of the intruding voice.  He reached up and dragged the clean trousers from off the dresser, and began to slide his legs into them, grumbling curses of annoya nce – pissed off phrases – from underneath his breath. He waited for the voice to speak again – he wanted to know who this person was. He felt violated in a way, but he had an aversion in his gut that it was just a big foolish prank. Then the voice spoke.

            “Relax, Link. Relax.” It seemed familiar. Too familiar. Whoever this trickster was, was somebody he knew personally.  “It’s just me.” In that moment – a split of a second – Eric swung down from above the balcony doors, a clawshot in hand. Link’s eyes widened as he hurriedly finished pulling up the trousers to his hips. He then sat there on the floor, shirtless, and gawking at his unexpected visitor.  Eric only blushed and chuckled at the boy’s expression. “I’m only kidding with you, calm down.” Link gritted his teeth at the guard. “I’ve been coming to check up on you since the dispute with Zelda. Every other time, except for now, you’ve been asleep.” Eric still had a cheesy grin on his face; he continued to giggle at the younger’s frustration. As the guard’s amusement lowered, he recomposed himself to a gentle and stately manner. “I came to see if you found the clothes I went and bought for you.” Link’s face flushed red, he hadn’t expected that the guard cared about him that much. “But, I see you did.” Eric nudged his shoulder at Link, who only had half of the new outfit on.

“Any-who, I see that you’re awake. Since it’s my day off, and I’m bored – I assume you are too – would you like to get out of this dusty old room? I was going to head out anyways, but since you’re here, I figured I’d see if you’d want to go with.”  The red-head walked himself over to Link, who still sat on the floor, and offered a hand to the boy. Link glanced up at Eric, and took his hand and heaved himself up. He tried to look his guard in the eye, but he had to stand on the tips of his toes to do so, before sighing and giving up.

            Link rolled his eyes. “I’ll go,” he muttered. He reached down and picked up the new tunic, curling his lips at the green cloth once again, and then slipped it over his head. Although he despised that it was similar to the Hero’s tunic, he did note that it was actually comfortable without all the chainmail that had dragged him down. Link reached around the tunic to the tie the fitting straps correctly. Eric paid attention to the numerous times the blonde had to swat is elongating hair from his face to see what his fingers were fumbling with.

The older took the initiative, reached around the boy and took his hair in his hands. Startled by the slight tug on his hair, Link yelped. Eric bunched the hair and tied it in place with an extra ponytail he had found lying around: he allowed the boy’s bangs and sideburns to hand loosely by his face, since he assumed that was how Link styled himself. Now, with his hair tied back, Link’s pointed ears seemed to stick out more: they were more visible to Eric. The guard stepped away from the shorter, and took a good look up and down his body. Link’s face turned red, and it was noticeable that the tips of his ears did as well. Link reached a hand back to his ponytail, taking it in his hand; his blushed darkened in shade as he bit his lip. “I look fine like this?” Eric nodded to the boy, who returned a vague smile; the red-head noticed the emptiness in the boy’s emotion – he noticed the pain his lips and the lost look in his eyes; he didn’t mention his findings, though. Link released his hand from his ponytail. “So, where will be going today?”

            “I was thinking we could head over to the market, and then to Telma’s pub.” Eric immediately regretted the fact that his tongue always outran his head. Link wasn’t old enough to drink, and he didn’t want to risk Zelda getting after him for taking a minor to a bar. But, Link did know Telma personally, so he assumed it would be okay. “And then back to my apartment for supper, if that’s okay with you, of course.” The taller shrugged his shoulders at Link: a goofy grin was plastered on his face, which inhibited his animated nature.

            Link nodded. “That’s fine with me. Besides, I’ll get to see Telma again, if she’s in town.” He tugged his tunic down to fit him at his shoulders; he wrapped his belt, which held his small pouch, around his shrinking waist. He glanced over at Eric. The guard wore his own clothing rather than his typical chainmail uniform: he wore loose, yet nice, trousers. They made him look of the upper class to which he belonged. He also had a button-down top that had a neatly folded collar and cuffed up sleeves: overtop, he wore a black satin vest which was buttoned down the middle. In the left chest-pocket, there was a small white handkerchief that hung out like a cravat. Eric’s red hair was swept to the left of his face neatly: his hair wasn’t dirty and loose strands didn’t stick out. Gawking over Eric’s attire and outward appearance, he truly felt like the farm boy he was. Standing next to the tall man, he felt frivolous and out of place: his argument for such comprised of his messy hair, ranch-hand clothes, and short stature. Link felt unfit to be such a friend to Eric, who was far superior to him: he felt he couldn’t accommodate to his friend’s supremacy.

            Eric smirked at the shorter, who was silent with his mouth parted slightly. He grabbed the boy’s boots from across the room, and placed them at his feet, giving him the intimation to slip them on. Link stared up at the man, dazed, until he came to the realization of what Eric had just done. His face blossomed pink of embarrassment as he quickly drew on his boots: he grazed the leather gently against his left ankle – it was essentially healed, but was still considerably sore. Eric winced as he watched the boy’s grovel to the pain from his ankle. As the pain dwindled down to being barely noticeable, Link stood back on both of his feet, as equally as he could. The off duty guard reached for the door and opened it for the young boy. The blonde strode through, nodding a thank you to the red head.

 Eric followed Link through the doorway: he motioned to the boy to wait where he was. The blonde’s brows rose: he was intrigued. The red head scurried down to the hall to the storage room: Zelda had some of Link’s extra belongings in there. Eric entered the room, scanned it quickly, grabbed the nearest jacket, and swiftly walked back to Link. He practically threw the jacket into the boy’s arms. “Put it on. I don’t want you catching a cold.” Link nodded, placing his arms in the sleeves of the coat, and them pulling it up to his shoulders.

            The blonde’s face lit up with a pained smile once he was accustomed and fitted in the coat. The duo then began to head down to the castle doors. Eric heaved one open, permitting Link a sliver of space for him to hobble through. Eric lead the way as Link followed behind him as they weaved through the castle yard, finally making it to castle town. The taller of the two took the shorter under this arm, dragging him through the dense crowed: his face remained stolid as many blunt citizens mumbled gibes of the gay guard – the mumbled hatred and shame toward the guard for taking the hero.

Link was caught off guard by their actions, although he didn’t know much of Eric, he didn’t care: he was a good friend, and he had enough of a heart to end the abusive sayings. He halted his strides as Eric continued, until his hand fell off Link’s shoulder. The red head turned, staring at Link, muddled and inquisitive about the short boy. Link’s head hung – faced the ground – and his bangs and sideburns fell with gravity as well. His jaw was clamped tight and he closed his eyes. The crowd began to stare at him, forming a big circle around him – he was the hero after all, they all knew who he was.

            “Why are you all so crude?” He mumbled. His words were distorted by the chatter of the citizens staring at him. Fed up, he jolted his head up, and shouted, “I asked, why are y’all so crude?” Link’s eyes were wide; his nose was scrunched up, teeth clenched, and lips snarling up. His eyes were filled with fire, and his fuel was their disrespect to Eric. “Now, I am the hero. You all know that, I know that. I shouldn’t have to say any more than that. I am not stuck up; I am not a snobbish brat; I am _not_ one who prejudices people! If I am your hero, I know many of you look up to me. Why can’t you act like me then?” He paused, taking a break and surveying the silent crowd. Their faces looked as astonished as Eric’s was, except his face was burning red. “So what if he does have a thing for guys?” He swung his arm over in the direction of Eric, who buried his face in his hands. “I wouldn’t care. He is loyal to Princess Zelda and Hyrule, and since he is a soldier, he is willing to risk his lives for you. That’s all that should matter. I don’t care. You shouldn’t either.” He shook his head, as he began to walk toward Eric, taking his arm and dragging the guard behind him. The crowd split for Link and Eric, and didn’t say a word. Although some still whispered crude comments, they were about Link now; he didn’t care anymore. He was too miserable to give notice.

            The boys quickly exited the plaza, and headed down the back alleyway, avoiding the crowd at the marketplace. Eric was released from Link’s grasp. “We’re heading to Telma’s first, I’m assuming.” Link grunted, and nodded.  Eric beamed as he followed the determined short boy. He aided the boy down the stairs before they reached her pub. Eric heard no noise, and sighed. He was grateful it wasn’t currently busy. He darted in front of Link, holding the door open for the small boy. Link smiled up at Eric in return, his appreciation unfeigned.

            As Eric continued to open the door for himself, he was greeted by Telma’s shriek and the sight of her running toward the boy. The woman grabbed the small boy by his middle, and held him tight in a hug, lifting him off his feet. It was obvious that Link couldn’t breathe under her tight grip. His face was red and winded, as she continued to shove the air from his lungs in a tight hug. Coughing and sputtering, Telma took the indication and fixed Link back on his two feet: he hobbled as air returned to his chest. The plump woman guided the boy over to a barstool, Eric sitting to the right of him.

            Telma put herself behind the counter, placing her hands on her hips, smirking at the two boys. “What can I get you two gentlemen?”

            Link remained silent, while Eric took a cursory survey of the variety of drinks the woman had to offer. He pointed to one on the far left; Telma turned her head in the direction of Eric’s direction. “Two shots of that rum, please.” The red head grinned at the woman while reaching for his wallet from his trousers. Telma brushed him off, signaling him that the drinks were on her. The plump woman filled two shot glasses to the brim, and slid them in front of Eric. She then faced Link. “Now, what can I get you darling?” But she was silenced when the red head slid one of the shot glasses in front of the boy. Her eyes widened.

            “Link, I know that you’re not old enough to have that.” Telma scolded the boy, grabbing the tip of his ear. Her grin remodeled into a frown as she watched the boy glare at her.

            Link tugged his ear from Telma’s grip. “I don’t care.”

            “You’re going to be in some hot water with Zelda if she finds out.” Telma stuck her hands to her hips in a cross manner.

            The blonde shrugged his shoulders. “I said I didn’t care.”

            “How old are you?”

            “What?” Link looked up at Telma, baffled by her question.

            “Are you deaf? I asked how old you are.” Telma folded her arms across her chest.

            “Eighteen.” Link rolled his eyes, taking the shot glass to his lips and downed it.

            “Last time I checked, you were seventeen.”

            “I have a birthday, y’know.” The boy snapped back at Telma.

            Telma gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Oh, really?” She began to tap her foot against the hard floor. “When was it? Why wasn’t I told?”

            Link gulped. His face turned white and he had a look in his eyes that stated he was going to vomit. “I-I don’t want to talk about it.” His head looked down at the countertop: his eyes wide and lips parted, his breathing started to become labored.

            Telma grabbed the boy’s ponytail, and yanked his head up, making him face her. His lips formed a scowl as she looked firmly in his eyes. It was guaranteed he wasn’t going to talk. She sighed. “Link, I am not here to be a mean woman – no, I am not a mean woman. I am doing this because I know you’re young, and you shouldn’t be doing things as such.” She pointed her hand to the empty shot glass.

            Link didn’t look her in the eye. “The day she left.” His eyes welled up with tears, he shut them tightly; they still allowed the tears to fall. His face tightened as he tried to resist the somber feelings overwhelming him: he failed. His tight lips turning into a silhouette of the longing he felt. “The d-day she left was my birthday.” He sobbed. He planted his head on the countertop as he cried like a baby: loud and tearful. Yet, he was extremely anguished. Eric rubbed the boy’s back as he cried. Telma and Eric exchanged looks: Telma’s face retained and expressed her uneasiness for Link’s mental state. Eric’s eyes held a dismal fatality – his heart was beating softer by seeing his friend in such pain. He felt in debt to the boy: Link stood up for him earlier, yet he didn’t know what to do for him now.  

            “Oh goddesses, I would do anything to get her back.” Link slammed his fist on the countertop, ceasing his cries for a mere moment. “Take a limb, take my home. I just want her back.” The sobs from the boy were painful to the ear: they were depressing: they hurt. 


	7. Old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Link's sour mood, there's somebody around the corner trying to cheer him up.

Telma hurried the last of the customers out, leaving Link and Eric at the counter, before closing shop for the day.  The blonde boy remained face down on the counter; the red head rubbed the troubled boy’s back, in attempt to soothe him in his distress. Link had grown quite over the past few minutes: his head rested on the tops of his hands, acting as a barrier between him and the counter. His face was blank, but his eyes were heavy with somber: they looked like they had given up. They stared off into empty space, unfocused and dismayed.

 Eric made tiny circles around Link’s spine as he moved his hand along the boy’s back. He felt the scar stick out from the boy’s skin – he could only imagine its untamed shape snaking down Link’s spine. His eyes perked as he felt his way around the scar tissue. Then Eric’s hand met with a shoulder blade, which jutted out like a knife. He pressed harder on the boy’s back; he felt each rib from under the boy’s tunic. He felt the bones of his back and shoulders: he felt the boy’s anatomy from underneath his fingertips. Eric’s eyes widened, glancing at Telma in a worried manner.

The skinny boy swung his hands back, shooing away Eric’s. The red head pulled back as Link pushed himself up, slouching at the counter, his head hanging between his hands. “If I wanted a back massage, I’d pay for one,” Link snapped at Eric. The skin around his eyes puffy and red: lips pale, and teeth grit. He stood from his barstool, and hobbled to the door of the pub. Eric only stood and watched as the boy’s emotions began to unfold.

“Telma, can I ask a favor of you?” The blonde’s neck was arched slightly, allowing him to view her. The plump woman quickly walked up to him, placed her hands on her hips, and smiled down at the boy.

 “Honey, you can ask anything of me,” the woman gently spoke. Link nodded, before opening his lips, pausing, and then speaking.

 “Can we keep this secret from Zelda?” His eyes looked into hers as Telma grew ill at ease.

 The woman closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes.” She turned her eyes to Eric – he was as wide eyed as her. “We can.” She caved: it typically wasn’t usual of her to cave, but she did. Her head turned down as Link walked right out of her pub. She failed the boy. He was falling apart, and he needed her. She failed him, though.

Eric rose to his feet, downing his shot glass in a single gulp. "I should go after him." He began to head for the entrance. He slipped on his leather and coat and began to go by Telma. But the woman stuck her arm out in front of him, halting him.

"No." Her gaze floated and met with Eric's. "You will not." Her voice dropped to an icy chill. The red head perked a brow, bespeaking his curiosity. Telma lowered her arm. "The boy needs a break." Her words grew solemn and separated. "He's not going to clear his mind unless we give him the space he needs." She knew she was wrong, but she didn’t have a clue as to what to do.  

Eric nodded and sighed, returning to his bar stool, and sitting. His eyelids hung heavy and he didn't bother to brush his bangs from his face. His eyes flickered up at Telma. "Another shot, please,” he muttered, slamming his empty shot glass back on the counter. Telma smirked, despite the uptight atmosphere.    

* * *

 

            Link scrunched his shoulders as he walked: his eyes followed his breath as it left his lips, becoming visible in the chilled autumn air. He slouched, sighed, and continued to plod forward. He reached his hand back into his pouch on his belt and pulled a cigar from it. He held the wadded tobacco between his index and middle fingers of his right hand, as he used his left to light it. Link placed the blazed cigar in his teeth as he eyed a bench, making b-line toward it. As he sat himself down, the truth of the scenery exposed itself in upmost detail.

            A young boy, known as Hyrule’s hero, was sickly and pale. He sat on a bench outside in the cold of the autumn season, a lit cigar in his blue tinted lips. His eyes carried heavy and dark bags underneath them. The boy was as bony as a skeleton. He was still, except for the occasional pulling the cigar from his mouth. His outward appearance reflected him as if he were antiqued – older than he really was. He looked much older than eighteen. But, the grave fire in his eyes conveyed his untimely maturing: he was too young to experience the solemn situation he had been in. The boy’s expression grimaced as the crowd’s comments began to be the focus of his attention.

            “Is that Link? Smoking? How foolish. He’ll die young.”

            “Is that _really_ the boy who saved us? He looks far too scrawny to have done so – ha! I bet Princess Zelda’s soldiers did most of the work for him!”

            “Is that kid okay? Looks half-dead as it is.”

            “I don’t want my kids to see that man how he is – they look up to him. All he seems to be is a bad influence.”

            Although he tried to remain as nonchalant and apathetic as possible, the words were bitter; they stung – they stung in the quintessence of animosity. Link felt the hurt build up in his blood from the words of arrogant strangers. He bit his lip, holding back his desire to shout back at the crowd. He wanted to give them the reprisal they deserved. Link’s tongue raged with countless possibilities of retaliation, ways to tell the truth of the journey – and how it all hurt him in the head. The ideas only hung their heads and remained a sparse hum in his throat.

            Out of the blue, he felt an unexpected tap on his right shoulder. Instinctively, Link turned his head to the stranger. He was met face-to-face with a young child. The little boy had an innocent face, and he bent forward, almost touching his nose with Link’s. The boy's large, bright blue eyes stared directly into his. The boy's stringy blonde hair hung in his face. His inquisitive tongue vaguely expressed a lust for knowledge. Link’s lips drooped as he stared at the boy. He felt a spark of memory bubble up in his head. The child seemed familiar – too familiar for just a stranger.

            “Excuse me, mister.” The boy shyly fiddled with his thumbs. “I c-can sit here, right?” The boy blushed and his cheeks turned a deep red. His lips formed a cheesy smile to persuade Link.

            Link flashed his eyelids once or twice, before smiling at the child, nodding his head. “I don’t mind.” He gleamed at the boy. “But, is your mother okay with this? I assume she wouldn’t want her little baby to talk with a complete stranger off the street.” He reached his arm around the bench where the boy sad.

            The child plopped his rear end onto the bench, next to Link. His feet hung over the edge, and he swung his legs back and forth, back and forth. He grinned up at Link. “Oh, she’s fine. She’s over there watching us!” The boy pointed across the street to a petite, hazel-haired woman. “Hi momma!” The little boy frantically waved his hand at her. The woman turned, revealing her ghastly pale face. She gently grinned at the duo, waved to the boy, and continued to run her eyes into the distance. It took Link seconds to remember her face. Then his stomach dropped. He gaped at the woman: he knew her. She had _died_ when he was just a child. Link bit his lip, glancing over at the boy. He noticed the ghastly tint to the boy’s skin as well – he had the same time as the woman did.

            “Well, she’s not my real momma.” The boy sighed, turning his head to his feet. Link returned his attention to the child. He gulped as his knees began to shake. He knew the boy, too. He died the same time the woman did. “My momma and daddy are still alive. So is my best friend.” Link shuddered as the boy pointed to the woman. “She was his momma. She takes care of me now. We watch my mommy and my daddy and my brother, Colin, and my new baby sister.”

            Link wanted to vomit. He gulped, as his knees shook more and more. He spoke in the calmest manner possible, though. “What’s your daddy’s name? I think I may know him.”

            The boy looked up at the older. “Momma says that his name is Rusl. R-U-S-L. That’s how you spell it.” He perked up his lips into a small grin.

            Link’s heart sped up. This boy was his childhood friend. It was all coming back to him in a rush of blood to his brain. The boy was Rusl’s first son, who would’ve been Link’s current age, if he were still alive. He got sick with a brutal illness when he was four. His mother took care of him, but contracted the illness as well. They both died. But, now, they were both here. “I know your dad.” He paused. “He’s like the father I never had.”

            The boy’s face lit up. “My daddy is _very_ nice like that!” He smiled at Link, but quickly faded to gray. “I know you too.” Link’s throat tightened and his eyes widened. The child’s eyes began to tear up and the older internally gasped. “You… you were my best friend.” The child took his sleeve to his eyes, drying them. He leaned on Link’s side, shoving his face in the older’s shirt. “I missed you.”     

            Link sighed. “I missed you, too” He embraced the boy and held him close, murmuring soft whispers, silencing the boy’s tears. Link looked down at the child; he pressed his faced against the young boy’s head and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Seth.” Tears wanted to slide their way down his face.

            The boy grimaced a smile, but his face fell back to a remorseful state. Seth pulled himself away from Link. His eyes wavered as he began to twiddle with his thumbs, fidgeting everywhere. Finally, he took a breath and looked back up at Link, his eyes still puffy and red. Seth faced his friend with an unfeigned sorrow and pity in his stare, his condolences told by looks. “Why are you so sad?”

            Link froze. He took it as shock that the boy could see so deeply into him. He trembled. Words he wanted to say were trapped in his throat. All he could manage to mumble was, “How… how do you know I’m sad? How do you know I’m miserable?” The tears began to free themselves from the prison of his eyes.

            Seth shrugged. “You’re smoking”- he gestured toward the cigar in Link’s left hand-“and you’re really thin.” The boy poked the older’s chest – his ribs sticking out like a sore thumb. “And your eyes – they carry burdens that they shouldn’t have to carry.” The boy stood on the bench so he stood eye level with Link. He took his index finger and outlined Link’s cheekbones.

            The boy pulled his hand away as Link buried his face in his hands. He grit his teeth and hid his pain. He halted his cries, and pulled his head up. Revealing tears dried on his face, and his puffy eyes, he looked at Seth. “There’s a girl.” He choked up for a moment. “And I really, _really_ miss her.”

            Seth shook his head, and sat himself on Link’s lap. The older boy squirmed under the ghastly child’s weight. The boy took his hands and wrapped himself around Link, pulling his face tight into the tall boy’s chest. The child smiled uneasily, to comfort his friend without crying. Link turned pale and looked down at the child, taking him in his arms. “But you don’t have to want to die.” The boy buried his face into Link’s chest. Link’s face was covered in tears streaming down his cheeks.

            The teenager’s face was blank as he stared straight out in front of him. Across the street stood the figure of his mother, staring right back at Link. Her eyes accumulated with tears and she hid her face behind her hazel hair. A mother to see her child want to die – a painful sight it truly was. She was proud of him, without a doubt, for all he had done. She sympathized for him, with his lover leaving him – like Link’s father abandoning her; she knew her son’s pain. The woman saw her son’s face cringe, and she fell to her knees. Seth noticed from the corner of his eye, and hugged Link tighter.

            Link grabbed Seth’s head, and pushed his chin to rest on the boy. “I’m sorry.” His grip released, and he pushed the boy off his lap and next to him on the bench. Seth parted his lips, preparing to say something, but sniffled and hung his head. The boy’s adopted mother, walked across the street to the boys. She took Seth’s hand, helped him stand, and looked at Link. “I hope I don’t have to see you soon.” The woman choked. She took her sleeve to her eyes and dried them, before leaving with her adopted son. She didn’t wave or say good bye. Seth, however, kept looking back at Link. He waved once, and frowned at his slouched over friend, before he and his guardian disappeared into thin air.

            Link silently sat on the bench sobbing. He watched the last bit of embers of his cigar fade to nothing: he dropped the burning tobacco a while ago. He wiped his tears before mustering the anger to stand. He rose, and began to walk back to the castle, a glum tone in his steps. His feet dragged and scuffed against the ground. A fed up expression scared away anybody slightly inclined to talk with the famous Hero of Twilight.

            Children saw him from behind, ran to catch up with him, only to see a dead face of sorrow. Their smiles turned to horrified frowns, and they ran. Woman sneered away, covered their mouths with their hands, to hide their shock of his outward transformation. Men scoffed at his disheveled, unkempt, heartless appearance. He shrugged it off – he didn’t have the heart to care anymore. He cared about nothing anymore.

            He reached the castle entrance, pulled a cigar from his belt, lit the thing and placed it in his lips. Link walked right in the castle yard, noticing Zelda sitting the garden writing – writing in a small leathered notebook. He halted his steps and watched her – her eyes were swollen and rosy. She had been crying. Why? He wouldn’t have known. Link then noticed Eric standing, rather leaning, up against a tree near Zelda. His lips moved slowly and solemnly. His eyes heavy and guilty as he spoke to the princess; Link knew it was about him, without a doubt.

            Then Zelda looked up and met gazes with the young boy. Eric was stopped in his speech as Zelda stood from the bench, dropping her notebook, and running to Link. She leaped to the shorter boy, grabbing him in a tight hug. She didn’t want to let go. But his smoky odor only pushed her away. Her happiness of his return only transformed into anger of his disobedience and ignorance.

            “I thought I told you not to smoke.” She crossed her arms at the boy, and began to tap her foot repeatedly. Link only looked away from the princess as he blew out a ring of smoke. She reached up and grabbed his hand: his hand was comparably larger than hers, despite that he stood half a head shorter than her. Link glared at her. Zelda’s eyes widened, and she slowly released his hand. “Why so crude all of a sudden?”

            “Leave me alone.” Link frowned at Zelda, placing the cigar back in his lips. “I can make my own decisions. I am an adult now.” Shocked, Zelda took a step back, parting her lips. She wanted to speak but was scared. The mindless teenager was in a crisis yet felt the nerve to say he was independent although he was falling apart – mentally dying. She would show him right.

            Eric ran over to the duo just in time to hear the words leave Zelda’s mouth. “You will not be staying in my castle, then.” Eric opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.

            “Fine,” Link mumbled, crossing his arms. “Just let me gather my things.”

            Zelda took a step back, and gestured her arms towards the castle door. “Go ahead. Just be out by seven.” The boy nodded and walked up to his room, a slight limp in his step. Eric sneered; he knew the boy put too much strain on his ankle with all his walking today. He cursed at himself, giving the boy the idea of going out for the day. He then looked right at Zelda.

            “Why are you letting him do this?” Eric questioned Zelda. The princess only sternly looked at Eric, repulsing in him cautiously taking a step or so back.

            “He needs to learn to live up to his word.” She turned her head away from Eric.

            “But, he’s in mental despair. He isn’t thinking straight!” Eric pleaded. He crossed his hands and stood lower than Zelda, and looked up at her with puppy eyes. “He is my friend and I do not want anything to happen to him.” He stood to his typical height and placed a hand on Zelda’s shoulder.

            “If he wants to go, he can.” Zelda whispered, brushing off Eric’s hand. The man sighed, forcing his palm onto his forehead and dragging it down his face.

            Both Eric and Zelda turned their attention to the slamming door, with Link exiting, now with a sack over his shoulder. His face was straight, unmoved by Eric’s worried eyes and Zelda’s frustrated lips. He trudged past the two and continued to exit the castle yard. He had no home to return to, now. Unless he went back to Ordon, which would take too long, he would sleep in the street. Unless.

* * *

 

            It was nearly midnight. Telma didn’t like knocks on her door so late. It was cold out; maybe it was a friend, or a homeless woman or child. If it were, she wouldn’t mind. If it was some asshole looking for a drink or a one night stand, she wasn’t going to restrain herself from grabbing an empty bottle to chase them away. She yawned, slipping on her clogs and bathrobe, before heading down to the door. She opened it to find a familiar face.

            He was thin and pale and ghastly. He held a sack over his shoulder, and he shivered in an oversized sweater. His hair was still tied back in a ponytail like earlier, but his face seemed more horrified than she had last seen him. Tears were dried around his eyes, and remnants of their flow were leftover on his cheeks. His eyes were red and puffy, while his nose was red and stuffy. She covered her lips with one hand, but pretended to yawn to prevent from offending the boy

            “Telma,” the boy spoke. His voice faltered each time his body shook. “Can I ask a favor of you?” She nodded. “Can I stay here?”

            The plump woman took him in by the shoulder. “Link, you always have a place here. Don’t ever forget that.” She hugged the boy, pressing his face against her shoulder. Her face widened. She felt tears soak her shirt, and shortly enough she heard little sobs coming from his throat. Slowly, Telma reached her arms around the boy, embracing his boy against hers. She rubbed his back and head, calming his cries. The two stood there for half an hour, before Telma led Link to a bed near hers. She didn’t want to leave him alone the night.

            Telma and the boy sat on the bed prepared for him. “I messed up,” Link coughed. “I always mess things up, or they go wrong for me.” He gripped onto the woman tighter than before. She only sighed. “Why do the goddesses make me feel so empty?” Telma wanted to cry. She held the boy in her arms as he silently cried.

            “You are not a mess up.” She held him close. “Yes, things go wrong. But the good always outweighs the bad.” She stuffed the boy’s head in the crook of her neck. “You saved the country. You should not be ashamed of anything now.” She let go of the boy, and turned his shoulders so he faced her. “You are a hero, Link. You will always be one.” Telma hugged him one last time before putting herself to bed. “And, I’m always here for you. Don’t forget that.”


	8. Link's Desparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link's mind has left him the gravest of situations.

            Telma woke to an empty bed to her right. She sighed, pushing herself upright and getting up from bed. She put her feet in her clogs, and changed herself from her sleep clothes to her day outfit. Tying her hair in a bun, she looked down to the main floor, to which she saw Link fumbling a tune with her fiddle. She cringed at how off his intonation was, but he was occupying himself from drowning. That pleased her.

            Slowly and quietly, she placed her feet on the steps, in attempt to go and sneak up on the boy. Telma reached the bottom of the staircase when the wooden floor creaked under her unbalanced weight. Link jumped, almost dropping the violin. He turned and faced Telma, his skinny face turning bright red, along with the tips of his ears.  His lips twitched as he gently placed the instrument back in its case.

            He rubbed the nape of his neck with his left hand. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have touched your fiddle without asking…” His words trailed off into silence. “I… uh, sorry.” He stared down at the floor, his face wide and rosy.

            Telma grinned at Link, placing her hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he looked back up at her. “I don’t mind.” She smiled. “If it makes you happy, I’m okay with it.” Link smirked slightly, but almost simultaneously, it disappeared.

            Link shrugged. “I’m rather tired.” He glanced over at the side room of the bar: it remained pretty empty throughout the day. “Would you mind if I just relaxed over there for the day? I won’t bother your customers or business.” He rubbed the inside of his left arm with his right and bit his lip: he seemed over anxious for a simple question.

            Telma nodded. “You can. I’ll check up on you every so often, when traffic gets low.” She patted the boy’s shoulder.  “I’ve got to start getting the dishes cleaned, so go make yourself comfortable.” Link nodded and did just as he was told. As Telma walked behind the bar counter, Link walked opposite to the side room. A musty old couch and a table sat in the side room. He placed himself on a wooden chair.

            It was typically used for drunken men, but he felt miserable enough to be drunk. Link watched as each man came in sober, but left an intoxicated, disgraceful mess. It went on for hours, getting worse in the latter parts of the day. By then, Telma had already brought him several glasses of water, and pieces of bread. He only drank he water, leaving the bread untouched. Link only watched the sun set through the window, and the men at the bar were only getting rowdier by the hour.

            Link stood from his chair at the small table, and sat up against an empty wall. He leaned up against the corner while Telma dealt with the rowdy and busy customers. His emotions were coming to reality as he pondered his head. He remembered being so happy and care free at one point in his life – now as each day passed, and each misfortune left him feeling mutilated, he felt the burdens growing heavier. He felt that it was growing harder to push himself out of bed in the mornings, and make himself at least look presentable. His heart and head ached often, and when they did, it felt like everything was crumbling and collapsing on top of him. He didn’t possess the courage he had back then: when he was with _her_. He had changed.

            He felt unneeded in many aspects after his return from his journey. Back in Ordon, despite it being troublesome, they all had figured out how to deal without him: without their ranch hand. When he had come back, he learned of such, and didn’t want to come out. His longing for mutilation was growing stronger by the day, now. He figured nobody would recognize him as what was supposed to be their ‘chosen hero’, the ‘one the goddesses chose, before he was even born, to save the land of light and twilight’, the ‘noble hero of twilight’. He felt he didn’t meet up to any of those titles anymore. Link only felt an empty burden in his heart: a burden that rose in self hatred and sorrow – a longing for a way to cope, a way to relieve the misery.

            He took a deep breath, exhaling in a sigh, and looked over his right shoulder to Telma over in the main pub. She made contact with Link for a brief second and her happy smile reconstructed into flat lips when she noticed the lost feeling in the boy’s eyes. Excusing herself from a customer, she took another glass of water to the boy. She walked over to the other side of the room and knelt by Link, who was now sitting on the floor.

            “Darling, I know you’re not okay.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. He was cold and terribly skinny. Her hand sunk his sweater and outlined his bony shoulder and back. Such a sight repelled her: she remembered a time – a time not too long ago – when the boy was fit, muscular, and healthy – not on the verge of death. Telma took a small gasp, but it was inaudible – she only wanted to hide her fear from the poor boy: he was troubled enough as it was. “You don’t look so good.”

            Another sigh. Link rolled his head toward the woman, looking at her with his glassy eyes. Quickly, he shook himself back to consciousness. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” He reached for the glass in Telma’s hand, taking a sip of the water. He placed it on the floor next to him. Link shivered, tightened the position he was curled up in. Slowly, he turned his head away from the plump woman next to him. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold back, he didn’t want to worry the woman any more than he had to: she had done enough for him already. But, she had already noticed his feared expression, and that he hadn’t eaten a single thing she had brought him.

            Telma sighed and frowned. She knew the boy was troubled, but she was oblivious to how much trouble he had dug himself into. She grabbed Link’s shoulders and pulled him to her chest. She placed her hand on his head, and rubbed his back. She put her head down next to his ear and whispered, “Link, I care for you. Please, if anything is wrong, come to me.  I know things are hard for you right now. But, I promise, everything will turn out alright.” She tightened her grip on the boy – she didn’t want to let go of him. Link only gritted his teeth harder and was fighting back the tears trying to make home in his eyes.

            But, Telma heard her name being called by a drunken man in the main hall of the pub. She sighed, releasing the boy from her grasp and leaning him back up against his wall. “Why don’t you climb onto that sofa? There are blankets in the closet over there if you’re cold.” She nudged her shoulder to the doors on her right. Folding her arms, she eyed the boy’s eyes: sunken in with dark bags they carried. “That’s wasn’t a suggestion, that was an order. You need some rest.”

            The blonde refused to look back at the plump woman, but he knew she wouldn’t leave until he attempted to make an effort. He sighed, nodded, and began to pull himself to his feet. Slight remnants of pain singed in his ankle as he placed weight on it. Link picked up on the lift of Telma’s frown as he sat himself on the edge of the couch. He still couldn’t look her directly in the eye, though. He felt waterworks form along his eyelids, he blinked them away quickly. She couldn’t see it.

            The plump woman sighed silently, turned her back to the boy, and returned to the main hall of the pub. She had to take care of the ruckus before it turned to disaster. Link cracked a peek and espied Telma turn a corner: he was alone and not visible to anyone or anything. Slowly, Link pulled his knees up to the seat: he rested his head on them as he held them tightly in place. That was when he caved: silently, the teardrops freed themselves from his eyes – they trickled down the side of his cheeks, dripping off his chin and onto the couch.

            He felt so empty. He wanted to give up. It had been a lonely time coming ever since she left. After creating such a bond, watching it get crushed right before his eyes hurt. He felt so unneeded. Back in Ordon, they all figured out how to live on without him – he had no job when he returned. The goddesses didn’t even need him anymore – unless this mental roller coaster was all of their doing, playing with him like a voodoo doll. He only felt like a nuisance. Since Zelda had found him in his basement, she only was on his tail. He only annoyed her; he only messed up and disappointed her; he had failed to meet her expectations. He only felt that he failed himself, with all the situations he couldn’t handle after she left. He couldn’t do anything without her anymore.

            Once he felt his eyes dry up, he sat himself back up – taking the edge of his sleeve and dried his eyes. Telma caught a peek of the boy hiding his evidence as she turned the corner. She sighed. He was not alright. But she knew that already. She had to stop lying to herself about the boy: Link needed her. Link needed them all. She grabbed yet another piece of bread from behind the counter, enveloping it in a small towel. Excusing herself from her customers, Telma paced to the side room to find Link leaning back against the wall. But, he rested on the small sofa this time. She slightly smiled, she was at least glad he wasn’t on the musty and dusty floor anymore.

            Taking one of Link’s hands, she placed the bread in his palm and wrapped his fingers around it for him. He sat there and watched the woman play with his hand. When she finished, he looked up at her, confused. Her eyebrows were scrunched, but obviously not due to anger. “Eat,” she demanded of him. Telma wanted to make sure he ate; she didn’t want him collapsing on her due to how thin he was becoming.

            Link groaned and nibbled off small bits off the crust of the bread, hoping it would convince her to let him be. His face looked down while his eyes flickered over at the woman who stood there, towering over him. He wanted to throw the bread down – refuse to eat it; but, he didn’t want to ruin Telma’s beneficial intentions. He only whimpered underneath his breath, hoping she wouldn’t notice. But the woman snapped her head back to staring at him. He looked back down at himself immediately. He wasn’t going to admit to being a coward.

            Telma knelt down to the boy. “Tell me,” she whispered to him, “what is so wrong, dear? Is it more than the absence of Midna? I saw you dry your eyes only minutes ago.”

            The words that left her lips incited the draining of color from Link’s face.  He just gritted his teeth and turned away. He loved the woman like a mother, but this was one thing he couldn’t tell her. He didn’t want her to know how miserable he was making himself. It would devastate her even more than she already was.”N-no. I’m fine.” He shook limitedly. Being sad was one thing: wanting to die and mutilate oneself was another. “I’m not a coward.” He knew he was lying: cowards don’t feel in such ways.

            Telma sighed in defeat. Link wasn’t going to open up anytime soon, and it was quite obvious to her. She already knew he was depressed over Midna’s leaving, but something more was going on – something he didn’t want to tell her. Watching the boy in his current state hurt Telma, she hated not having much to do for the boy. She wanted to help lift the weight of the world off his shoulders, but each time she attempted he refused. And besides what she had just forced him to swallow, he hadn’t eaten. Back when they first met, he came in and ate her food up like a pig: but now she barely could get him to eat a crumb. Despite the duties placed on him, and the stress on Hyrule – those were better times for Link.

            The two sat there in silence, but it was cut short by the shouting of a drunken man and a shatter of glass. Telma shot up and grumped to herself – something about hoping nobody was hurt. She turned to Link for a second, and smiled widely as he looked up at her, despite his expression being the same of a lost child’s. “I’ll be right back. Hopefully these idiots haven’t broken my things, or themselves.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically and quickly stepped into the main hall.

            Link nodded and lightly smiled for the woman. Deep down, he didn’t feel like putting a good expression on his face – he only did it for Telma. Sighing, he took another nibble from his bread, hoping to subdue the ache in heart from his longing and emptiness. He had no honest desire to eat, he wasn’t physically hungry – at least he convinced himself of so. He didn’t deserve the food before him, he had taken so much from her: emotionally and mentally. He couldn’t take anything else.

            “Get out! Get out!” Telma yelled to the drunken men: Link jumped by her harsh tone. “You drink much of my liquor, and then you get in a fist fight of a quarrel and hurt an innocent man! I must take him to the doctor now – I better not see you here ever again. And I mean it.” She shoved the last of the men out. “I cannot leave you children alone, can I?” Her voice intensified as she spoke.

            Link only sat and watched as Telma shooed the last of the men out of the pub, the injured man sat slumped in a chair. She took the man over her shoulder, and turned to Link. “I’ll be back soon, hopefully.” She shot a wavered glance at the drunken man. “Don’t get in too much trouble!” She falsely smiled at the boy and waved before exiting the pub, closing the door behind her. Telma didn’t feel safe with leaving Link alone, but giving him some sort of confidence may help, she figured.

            As soon as he heard the doorknob click shut, Link shot up from his spot on the couch and went to the bar counter. He rummaged behind the scenes for paper and ink. He found an inkwell, pen, and blank receipts: it could do for his purposes. He dipped the pen in the ink and brought it to paper. He started writing with the typical _Dear Telma_ , but he quickly shook his head and crumpled the paper. Link stood there, pen in hand, for several minutes. His face was scrunched up as he was pained by the words he wished to say. All he managed to write was _I’m sorry._ He left the scribbled receipt on the counter, visible to Telma for when she returned.

            He felt his stomach churn over and over as the thoughts of what he was about to perform crossed his mind. Link gripped his head in his hands. He had burdened too many people in too quick of a time: Telma, Zelda, Eric, Ilia, his dead mother, and Seth. He couldn’t handle the pressure of it all. He cursed at himself, going over to grab his boots, bundling his feet in them. Link pulled an ownerless scarf over his neck before heading back over to the bar counter.

            Behind the counter was an array of a variety of wines, rums, whiskeys, liquors, vodkas and beers. Telma had arranged them in the strength of the alcohol residing in them. Link sighed, and pulled two full, unopened bottles of liquor off Telma’s shelf. The boy reached into his wallet, pulling out a purple rupee, and placed it on Telma’s counter – on top of the note. He figured it would be enough to cover the expense of the drinks he was taking.

            Link reached for the front door of the bar. He twisted open the doorknob, cringing as he pushed open the door. He walked through the threshold, and closed the door behind him. He stared up the starry sky, hands hanging by his side, with a liquor bottle in each. Tears began to bubble up in his eyes, but he blinked them away. It was not time for that. Yet. Link sniffled, rubbed his nose with his sweater, and shivered. The late autumn night was growing colder by the minute.

            Sighing, Link began to trek to the castle. He wanted to apologize to Zelda before he left completely. If he didn’t do so, he would’ve burden more than he would have wanted to. He popped open the cork of one bottle with his thumb and brought it to his lips. He cringed. The caramel liquid was bitter and gross, like his soul. He knew what he was doing was dumb, stupid – yet he was going to continue doing it anyways. He could only think of what _she_ would say to him for his actions. He imagined her in his head – he imagined that little imp sitting on his shoulders, giving all the advice he needed. She had already become the voice tramping around in Link’s head.

            She would tell him to stop. She would tell him what he was doing was stupid. It would all be out of love and care, though. “This is for almost dying.” He brought he bottle back to his lips and took a shot-size gulp. Did he feel resentment for their whole time together? Or was it just that he felt a bitter regard toward the uncertainty of the end?

            She would curse at him. Plead for an ear. Beg of him to listen to her. She would want him to stop. “This is actually dying. You scared me, so much.” More of the tan alcohol disappeared into his mouth.

            She would beg more. She would plead. She would cry for him. She would hold him, hit him; she would do anything to get his attention. She would try to knock some sense into him. “This is for leaving.” He brought the bottle to his lips, but paused. “Leaving without a way of return or visiting.” Another gulp.

            Crying and tears. She would try her hardest to get some sense into him. She would use all she had left in her to get him. “This is for suckering me into saving that damned land of twilight.” He took a larger gulp of the half empty bottle. No matter what he would say to her, she wouldn’t believe him. She knew him better than he did – she knew when he was lying before he did. “This is for becoming my best friend – my lover.” He swallowed even more of the drink this time. “And then leaving.” He was almost finished the first bottle, and he wasn’t even halfway to the castle.

            She would be speechless at that, honestly. But she would trudge on, trying her hardest to get him to think straight. She would to anything for the boy. “This is for making me feel like hell.” Tears started to stream down his cheeks as he finished the last of the bottle. She would have felt hopeless by now. Despite giving her all, at this point, she probably would’ve given up on changing his mind.

            _Link… I… See you._

            The words repeated themselves in his mind. He cringed and doubled over. He hurt even more. Link dug his fingernails into the side of his arm until a crimson fluid trickled out. “Damn it.” He threw the empty bottle on the ground and it shattered on impact. His head ached and heart raced; his eyes bloodshot and raw. The liquor he chugged hasn’t even hit his system yet – he consumed it too quickly for it all to affect him. He fell to his knees as he buried his face in his hands, covering the mass flood of tears trailing his cheeks. The glass on the ground cut up the boy’s knees as he sat there, crying.

            Sick of the cold, Link stood again. He was determined to get to the castle. He began walking normally, but too quickly he began to stumble around alleyways, unable to control himself. He was tripping and bumping into everything. Shortly, Link gave up on trying to get anywhere and leaned up against a wall of a building. He sighed and popped the cork off the second bottle of liquor.

            “Here goes nothing,” the words escaped his mouth slurred as he brought the second bottle to his lips. He swallowed approximately a third of the bottle before allowing his lungs to breathe. He smirked and stared at the bottle. “Link, you’re such a filthy coward and liar.” He brought the bottle back up to his lips and swallowed another third, then returned it back to where his hands hung at his sides. “I wouldn’t be here, doing this, if I hadn’t met her. Hell, I wouldn’t be like this if those goddesses didn’t make me their damned hero. I wouldn’t be this miserable – I wouldn’t be the worthless coward that I’ve become.” He laughed in a saddened way, as tears streamed down his cheeks. Link was begging to feel sick to himself, but went ahead and drank more of the liquor. “I give up,” he sobbed, removing the bottle from his lips.

            He felt like he had been hit by a train: everything hurt – his heart, his head, his body, his arms, his legs. He panted, trying to keep his cries hidden behind his pain. Surely, nobody wanted to be woke up by a drunk, sad man in the middle of the night. He gritted his teeth to keep his screams deep in his throat. He forced his eyelids shut so he didn’t have to see the world around him become a blurry mess as the alcohol entered his blood. He allowed the tears to continue to fall.

            Then the bottle returned to his lips one last time, taking a big gulp before his knees failed from underneath him and he fell to the alley ground. “Sh-shit,” he cursed, slowly and slurred. His felt each part of him began to become pungent with pain. Still, despite all the liquor he had drank and how drunk he was becoming, he still couldn’t forget her. If she were still here, he probably wouldn’t be like this. He wouldn’t feel so empty; he wouldn’t feel as if a part of him was missing.

            “Goddesses damn it.”   Link brought the bottle to his face, but before he took a drink he opened his eyes. He couldn’t see straight anymore – it was all a blur. He choked before releasing another river of tears. “I’m sorry, Midna. I can’t do this anymore. I’m a pitiful failure.” He shoved the bottle to his lips and took another gulp. He then removed it, and threw the almost empty bottle across the alley. He bent his knees up and placed his head between them.

            _Who knows if I’ll wake up again? I really hope not. I’ve felt like hell and I don’t want to anymore. This life I live is as miserable and empty as it is, I just want to be relieved of my misery. Things are starting to fade. I think I’m starting to fall asleep. Actually, I don’t know. Maybe I’m dying? Who knows?_

Link’s eyes slowly closed, his breathing slowed, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. It was the middle of the night and he was passed out in the middle of an alleyway in the depths of castle town. An eerie wind blew through the streets that night. A cold chill burdened the bones of all those who knew him. The goddesses wanted them to know that their hero was on heaven’s doorstep, but hell’s sanctuary.


	9. Perilous Nights with the Goddess' Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's up to Eric and Telma to find Link before it's too late.

            Eric strolled along the cobblestone roads to Telma’s. He figured the boy headed there the previous night. Zelda was hiding herself in the castle – her dispute with the boy made her feel guilt that was out of proportion to the situation. He had tried to convince her otherwise, but she had only snapped at him in return. The princess had ordered him to find the boy, and bring him back to her. By which, he gladly obliged. Now, he was out late at night, when with little to no traffic amongst the streets, looking for the boy.

            He made a right off the east street to an alleyway which dead-ended at Telma’s. He approached the poorly lit pub and noticed its sign was flipped to ‘closed’. Eric gulped, came to the door and knocked, afraid to have an angry and exhausted Telma to answer. Yet, all he heard was her voice yelling across the door to enter. He raised a brow, and pushed open the door. He entered to witness Telma frantically rummaging through her closet, gathering several coats. Eric stood wide eyed in the doorway as he watched her.

            “Telma, what are you doing?” He questioned the woman. She only shot her head up at the man and pointed to a small stack of papers on the bar counter. One was the morning’s inventory, the second the evening’s, the third was a scribbled note in messy writing. Eric looked at Telma inquisitively, picking up the inventory papers. “Must’ve been busy today – looks like you went through four bottles of liquor,” he noted, a light taint of humor in his tone.

            Telma’s eyes were stolid and expressionless; her face turned as blank as empty paper. “I only poured out two. The other two…” Her voice trailed off into nothing. She quickly returned to pulling out coats and blankets and scarves and gloves. She made three piles of them: one he assumed was for Telma herself; the other two remained a mystery to him.

            Eric squinted his eyes as he placed the inventory sheets back on the counter, and picking up the last note. In shaky writing, the words _I’m sorry_ were written, contrasting with the paper of faded color. The red head’s face turned white. He was speechless; he hadn’t realized the boy stooped so low. He would have never thought of this – he knew the boy had problems, but not this. Eric’s hands shook out of fear, worry and shock. He placed the note back on the shelf. “So he _stole_ two bottles of liquor?”

            Telma shook her head, pulling out a purple rupee from her pocket. “No, he left this in return. But, I fear he has much more of a problem than underage drinking.” The woman’s eyebrows scrunched as she hurriedly pulled on her coat. She picked up the other two piles of coats, and handed them to Eric. “One’s for you, one’s for Link. We’re going searching for him.” Eric stared at the second outfit, puzzled. Telma sighed. “I’d assume you’d find him first. You’re younger and can get around a lot faster than I can.” She smirked. “That’s if you don’t smoke.”

            Eric grumbled in disgust, but put on the outfit Telma prepared for him, and took the one for Link under his arm. Telma blew out the candles and went to the door. She held it open for Eric as he carried the coats for Link through the door. The two then headed up the alleyway and onto the main streets. Telma scanned both ways of the streets. “You go west. There are more alleyways there he could be hiding in. And it’s the quickest way to the castle – he may have been going there, but who knows. I’ll go east and see what I can find.”

            Eric nodded and departed west, now carrying the extra coats over his shoulder. Despite Telma’s mockery, he continued to pull a cigar from his pocket and light it in his mouth. He shivered as an ominous wind blew at him from behind. Although he was adequately layered for the cold, the odd wind chilled him to the bone. It made his teeth clatter and his body fidget and shiver. He frowned, and tugged on his coat, like doing so would give him additional heat. The wind was odd, though. It was like the cold was _trying_ to tell him something. It typically wasn’t even this cold yet during this time of year. The only place where it would already be cold was up north in Snowpeak. But, Hyrule was much farther south than the cold mountains.

            Just then, a quick and shadowy frame flung itself through his vision up above, cutting his train of thought. Shrouded in darkness, he couldn’t determine the person’s gender or identity. Eric halted in his tracks and stared skyward at the moon – it was bright enough to illuminate the alleyways. Again, the anonymous figure hovered across the moon for a split second – whoever it was, was jumping form rooftop to rooftop. The figure stood on the ledge of building and glared down at Eric.

            Eric grumbled and yelled up at the shady figure. “Hey! Who are you?” He watched the sly person chuckle, and then completely vanish into thin air. Quickly, his heart rate rose as he felt a light tap on his shoulder. The person covered Eric’s mouth with their hands, and spoke in his ear with their cheek brushing up against him.

            “It is not need be known who I am,” the voice spoke. Eric determined it was female. “Or my purposes. But I will help you.” The hooded woman turned and faced Eric head on. “I am an acquaintance of Zelda’s. I’ve been helping her these past few weeks with this boy you call a hero.” Eric sneered at the woman for her crude comment towards Link. “And it appears the ways you two want to help the boy are in sync with one another.” Eric grew baffled by her statement.

            The woman turned to leave, but Eric reached forward in attempt to grab her and only brushed her hood, knocking it off her head. Her tan skin and platinum tendril of hair were revealed and she turned her face to Eric. Her stare was icy at the red head. The man gulped as she spoke. “You’re looking for the hero?” She spoke softly. “Follow the winds. The goddesses sent them for a reason.” And with that she vanished without further explanation.

            Eric stood in a horrified haze, in the middle of an alley, a cigar still lit in his mouth and a chilling wind coming up on him from the north. Despite the grave situation at hand, Eric smiled. He looked up at the glowing moon and whispered, “Thank you, messenger of the goddesses.” And with that, Impa smiled.

            Eric took a sigh and continued to scan the alleyways for the boy. He kept in mind the direction of the wind, though. And by the time the back of his head had grown numb, the wind had changed its direction and slapped him across the face with a bitter chill. He turned to the alley the wind conducted him to. Eric noted the sly woman atop a roof further down the alley. She nodded to Eric, looked down at the street directly below her, and left.

            Eric’s eyes followed to where the woman’s had gone. He saw a small pile of a body. Eric froze for a split second, and then burst out running towards the slump. He hoped and prayed he wouldn’t meet with a familiar face. But, his hopes were crushed far too prematurely. The boy’s emaciated frame was illuminated in the moonlight: his eyes closed, lips parted, and chest shallowly lifting up and down.

            He grabbed the boy’s shoulders and held him upright – Link’s head hung limp. Eric’s face was wide with fear: his slightly shook the boy. “Link – Link! Wake up!” His voice was frantic and wavering. The blonde boy was out like a rock. The rancid odor of alcohol reeked the alley. Eric only scrutinized the boy’s bloody knees, pungent breath, vomit stained lips, bony frame: he only made himself sick thinking of it all. “Goddesses damn it!” He yelled, pained by voice.

            The previously hooded woman silently reappeared behind Eric in a smooth jump from a building above. Her arms were folded and voice was stern. “Do you know how much he’s had?” Her eyes burned right through Eric as he remained motionless. Regretfully, he shook his head. The woman scoffed, “Almost two full bottles.” Eric’s eyes shot open, wider than they ever had been.

            Quickly, Eric bundled Link in the extra coats he was given. “How long does that much take to kill?”

            The servant of the goddesses cocked her head. “Not long. He’s half dead already. Thus is why you found him now.” She wrapped her tendril of platinum hair around her finger as she spoke to the guard.

            Eric picked up the smaller boy in his arms and faced the anonymous woman. “So if I don’t go now and get him help, he will die before Zelda knows.” He paused and bit his lip. “Please, go inform Zelda of the incident. Tell her to report to the doctor. We’ll be waiting for her.” And with so, he dipped his head to the woman, and began running to the other side of town – where the doctor was. Eric cradled the boy close to his chest as he ran. The mysterious woman only smirked at the red head, before returning to a neutral expression and launching herself away from the scene.

            His lungs cringed – begged for air. Despite the pain building up in his chest, he was obstinate on saving Link’s life. He felt guilty for letting the boy fall so low. If he had only noticed his behavior; watched more closely – noting the shallow changes. If only he had been concerned with the boy’s thinning build: the bones jutting out at his hips and the outlines of his cheeks becoming definite. If he had pointed out the sullen and glum sea in his eyes – if only he had saved the boy before his life was on the line.

            The blonde fidgeted in Eric’s arms as the red head saw Telma at the other end of the road – by the doctor’s: his heart raced. “Telma!” He shouted after her, coughing. The plump woman turned her head and saw him at the end of the street. “Get the doctor ready!” He practically wheezed. Telma saw the pile of a boy in the man’s arms, she immediately ran into the office. Eric sprinted the rest of the way, clutching the boy to his chest even tighter.

* * *

 

            Zelda sat at her desk, writing letters – letters to Rusl, to Ilia, to Renado – to inform them of the situation of their friend’s time of depression. But, she received a knock at her window. Zelda paused her pen, and turned to the window, seeing a familiar face looking in. The woman at the window smirked and waved at the princess, who only nodded in return – giving an inkling that she was permitted to be in. The tan woman stepped in through the window and stood behind Zelda. The princess sighed, “Well hello there, Impa. Seems you’re out fairly late – and it’s fairly late for you to be visiting.”

            Impa smirked, shaking her head. “I only come for important business. But to contradict your statement, isn’t it late for you to still be up? Writing letters?” She chuckled to herself.

            Zelda grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Insomnia.” The princess turned in her chair to face Impa, and she was met with a perked brow and a raised lip – she sighed, turning her eyes to the floor and spinning back to her desk. “I’m worried about him, Impa.” She bit her lip. “I know he’s the goddesses’ chosen, but still. I feel terrible after yelling at him yesterday, kicking him out. I should have been more understanding. I was just an asshole.”

            The tan woman shrugged her shoulders and looked away from Zelda, her face becoming sullen and grave. “Anyway, back to why I came. You might want to go into town,” she took a breath. “According to Eric.” Out of the corner of her eye, Impa watched Zelda’s face freeze and become struck with worry. “To the doctor’s.” The designated queen shot up from her desk and ran to her closet. Impa sighed. “Eric found him. He told me to get you.” The woman turned her head back in the direction of Zelda, but the princess was already shoving her arms in a coat – already changed from her night gown to clothing of proper attire.

            She then began to exit the castle, ignoring Impa. The woman groaned, “I’m coming with you.” Impa’s cold words halted Zelda. The princess turned to her, and the woman sighed. “I know you, of all people, would not be able to handle seeing him in the current state he’s in.” She heard Zelda’s barely audible gasp – a squeak from a chipmunk.

            Zelda sighed, continuing to head to the castle doors with Impa behind her. The princess glanced over her shoulder. “Would you prefer to go by foot or by horse?” But before she received an answer, Impa walked right past Zelda, out the castle doors and to the streets. Zelda held her breath as her face turned bright red. She just followed Impa out the doors, without even restating her question.

            The two women exited the castle yard and walked down the streets. The wind blew in the direction they were heading – blowing Zelda’s hair into her face. Irritated, she tied the mass of her hair into a low ponytail. All her hazel hair below the ponytail became a knotted and curled mess. The same went with the strands of hair she allowed to hang by the sides of her face. She looked like a face that was familiar to Link – a face that was way too familiar; a face he had seen just the other day. Impa noticed the slight change in Zelda’s appearance, but didn’t make a big deal of it.

            Zelda stopped walking once she stood outside the door to the doctor’s. She looked up at Impa, her eyes watery and teeth clenched. “I’m scared.” Impa cocked her head at the princess, placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder and smiled. Zelda raised a brow at Impa.

            “I think he’ll be fine,” the tan woman whispered. “Despite that he looks like Ganon got to him, he _will_ be fine. The goddesses can guarantee it.” Impa gleamed at Zelda, who was still uneasy with the situation.

            Zelda sniffled, wiped her face and brushed off Impa’s hand. She inhaled through her nose and exhaled deeply from her mouth. Patting down her dress and knocking off any loose dirt, Zelda dried her eyes and looked firmly at Impa. “Okay,” a pause in her wavering voice. “I think I’m ready.” She smiled and turned her head to Impa. “I will try not to cry – I don’t want to scare the boy. Please remove me from the room if I-“

            “He won’t even notice,” the woman muttered gravely.

            “W-what do you mean?” The princess’ voice cracked with her emotion.

            The tan woman gulped, and began to wrap her hair around her finger. “Eric found him unconscious in an alley. Vomit stained lips and a pungent odor of alcohol that no wind could expel.” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, knowing Zelda’s face looked like a scared child’s. “Two bottles of liquor, almost completely downed.” She took a deep breath in, her voice shaking. “He’s almost dead, Zelda.”

            Zelda almost choked on her own breath. She brought her hands up to her face, covering her gaping mouth and flooding cheeks. Her knees trembled beneath her, but still remained strong. She felt her stomach churn and rumble with guilt – her lost sense of infamy returning. She felt the guilt back when she sent her soldiers to war, despite that most of them were unprepared and inexperienced. Zelda had thought that those dreadful feelings left her many moons ago – but lamentably were returning with the downfall of Link.

            The nearing queen shook. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Her eyes were cold and empty; hurt – stabbed like an innocent victim. She glared at Impa, frustrated yet broken beyond repair. “Why?”

            Impa shook her head. “I was going to inform you earlier.” She bit her lip. “But you took off and left the castle before I could go into specific details.” The stared at the ground – both women did; they stood in silence. Then the tan woman took initiative and reached her hands around Zelda, hugging her tightly. She stood and cradled the hazel’s face in her shoulder, but Zelda was only taken by shock. Impa sighed. “All and all has happened, and it will pass. And the boy will be fine. He just needs the help from all of us: You, Telma, Eric, Seth, and his mother.”

            “Seth, who is that? And his mother… the last I knew she died when he was four, and his father left his mother when she birthed to Link. How could she help?” Zelda questioned, puzzled.

            Impa shook her head. “Seth is as close to Link as his own mother is.” She took a pause. “But, the dead can do great things for somebody at heaven’s doorstep.” And with those words, Zelda pushed herself away from the woman.

            “We are going in,” the princess stated, drying her eyes. “And we are going to help save the boy.” The determination in Zelda’s voice only articulated her desire to return the favor – pay indemnity for all the wrongs she caused. She wanted to even the scales out. The tan woman nodded in return, obviously proud of Zelda overcoming her fear of failing the boy.

            The two women then walked up to the door, and opened it wide. They were greeted by the old man Borville, who sneered at the androgynous figure next to Zelda, Telma, a frantic and winded Eric, a cold chill in the air, and a sickly Link who was almost bereft of his life. The room was full and cold – physically and in the atmosphere of feelings. They were all worried that the next morning, they would be in mourning.

            Borville stared up at the princess; his oversized glasses making his eyes appear to be giant globes of green stuck on his face. “Your dumb hero drank a lot, your majesty.” He scoffed, ranted about the boy. “I pumped his stomach, got a lot of the liquor out. His body practically shut down after much of the liquor got into him. What I got out just sat in his stomach.” The old man shrugged, turning away from Zelda. “He’ll live.” The ears of everybody in the room perked up – the lifeline of hope was thrown into the sea of despair, for everybody to grab and be pulled to rejoice. “But,” the doctor paused. The air suddenly dropped a degree as the contradictory word halted all form of mental revel. “His liver is shot. He’ll take a while to recover, too. The boy’s too skinny, severely underweight – he needs to eat or he _will_ die.”

            Eric bit his lip and frowned – _he_ had noticed the boy’s bones jutting out from him. He could have done something, he felt. Telma wanted to vomit: she felt that because she didn’t punish the boy the first time he took some of her drinks encouraged his plan for death by alcohol. Zelda felt lightheaded: everything she was taking in felt like an incubus was beating at her heart – breathing and shattering it. She noticed his thinning – but she didn’t want to believe it, she only wanted to think of it as he was losing all the strength that he had previously. She noticed the downfall of his behavior – she watched him before she left, the night she left, and many of the days up until this point. She only wished she could have noticed the pattern.

            The old man checked the boy’s heart rate once again while the group of worried family stood there. He nodded to himself, jotting down mental notes. The wrapped his stethoscope around his neck and turned to the group. “Do any of you know why he did this?” He stuck his hands in his pockets and frowned at the members.

            Eric whispered, his faced whiter than a full moon. “Suicide and Midna.” He bit his lips and buried his face in his hands, his eyes welling up with tears. “He loved her and she left and he cannot see her furthermore and…” Eric’s voice trailed off. Telma hung her head, as well as Zelda. Impa’s only eyes met with the ground. Eric’s voice returned. “He was only seventeen and went to hell and back – he’s not stable.” Eric was now motionless and white – he was as scared as Zelda was.

            Borville nodded and sighed and turned his head to the floor. “When I release him, and he is recovering” – the doctor shot up and looked at each person in the eye – “you must keep an eye on him at all times. You cannot risk this again.” The old man was serious in all manners; while all of Link’s family stared at him dying in a bed, and they couldn’t help but feel sick to their stomachs for letting him fall so low. They all managed to nod to the doctor’s orders, though.

            After many minutes of sitting in dreaded silence, the dearth of sound digging inside each and every one of them like acid burning through rock, Zelda turned to Impa. The princess stared at the floor, her voice resonating in the solemn atmosphere of the room. “May I ask a favor of you?” The tan woman parted her lips, but nodded. Zelda looked up at her. “I need you to head to the mirror chamber. Tell my soldiers they need to hurry their work – get it done as soon as possible.” Impa sighed into a small smile and nodded.

            “Will do, your grace,” the woman nodded, bowing to Zelda, before leaving. When she left, the room felt only degrees colder. The remaining shuddered; Eric folded his arms, Telma shivered – Zelda walked over to Link and laid another blanket on top of him.

            Eric then turned to Zelda. “When you spoke to her,” he asked. “Did you mean the same instance as what you told me, when we brought Link to the castle?” The red head looked at Zelda with curious eyes – urging for answers.

            Zelda looked at the guard from the corner of her eye, her face remained stolid – lacking of emotion. She looked very apathetic for the situation at hand. “Yes, Eric.” The red head’s face lightened slightly with the confirmed words that flew from Zelda’s mouth.

            “That should help him,” the red head stated. His face wasn’t as shallow as it had been.

            Zelda only nodded. “Yes.” She closed her eyes and rolled her head to face the ceiling. “It will certainly help him.” Her plan would be a success – she would save the boy from his mental misery.


	10. Panic Attacks

                Eric groaned, being awoken by a pounding at his door. He yawned and stretched his arms, flattened the strands of unwashed hair that stuck up and out of place. He pushed himself to his feet and dragged his feet to his front door. Groggily, he pulled the door open and was surprised with an obviously sleep deprived Zelda; her eyes carried big swollen bags under them. Despite looking so run-down, she had a vociferous grin plastered on her face. She seemed jumpy, too – she kept bouncing up and down lightly on the balls of her feet. Eric only stood there and rubbed his eye, still half-asleep and unable to comprehend her gesticulations.

            “Guess who woke up?” She asked, a taint of innocence lingering in her voice. Eric stopped opening his mouth to speak and straightened his posture, perking his ears up a little bit more than usual. He widened his eyes, finally waking up and paying attention to the situation.

            “How is he?” The red head asked suddenly. He leaned forward close to Zelda, to hear every pinpoint detail. Eric, too, developed a slight smile on his lips.

            The princess tilted her head and squinted her eyes in a cheerful context. “He’s really out of it. Has a migraine, which I would have presumed would happen.” She looked up, like there was anything to actually look at. She was just trying to remember the boy’s symptoms. She poked her chin with her index finger. “I think besides that, he just cannot eat much. Doctor Borville confirmed his liver is severely damaged from that night. It’s just the massive amount of liquor he drank that night shot it. Borville says it’ll heal, though. It’s just going to take some time.”            

            Eric sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck. “Ah, well… well at least it’s not _too_ bad. At least he’ll heal, and at least he’s still alive.” He was trying to stay optimistic in the actual depressing situation.

            Zelda nodded to his response. “That’s true!” She turned away from Eric, looking back and gesturing his arm for him to follow. “Would you like to visit? Borville says I can bring you and Telma to visit.”

            In that moment, Eric’s face lit up drastically – his eyes widening and his smile growing. “Of course! Just hold on a moment and let me grab my coat.” Zelda nodded and Eric scurried around his house, pulling a winter coat from his closet. The red head shoved his arms in the sleeves and ran out his door, closing and locking it behind him. He chivalrously took the arm of Zelda and began to stride down the street with her.

            The autumn breeze kept knocking the woman’s chestnut hair in her face. Frustrated, Zelda pulled her arm from Eric’s and paused her walking – Eric did the same. The princess tied the main mass of her hair in a low ponytail. She left the strands that hung by her face where they were. Satisfied with her modification – she returned her arm into Eric’s and carried on down the street.

            As the wind continued to blow, Zelda’s ponytail became kinky and curled – it was a frizzy mess. And the tips of the strands by her cheeks also slightly curled. The woman sighed, realizing there was no way she could control her hair. Eric took quick glances at the woman, recognizing somebody he was told of, but he couldn’t recall the name of the person, or who told him. The man only shrugged it off as the two reached the doctor’s. Eric stepped away from Zelda and opened the door for her, allowing her in first. The woman nodded to the man and walked right through, the red head following her in.

            Link was sitting up in bed, a small plate with an array of fruits, including small pile of grapes and peach slices. He boy looked down at them, picking at them with his fingers, leaving them untouched and uneaten. The blonde boy didn’t look up at Eric and Zelda – he didn’t even notice that they came in. He just poked and prodded at the food on his plate. Borville made a diet for the boy, for when he woke up, that was easy enough for him to handle while his liver was healing; it consisted of simple sugars – no proteins, starches, complex carbohydrates.

            Since the liquor-suicide incident, Link had been in a temporary coma for two and a half weeks. Telma, Eric, and Zelda each took turns in watching the boy, waiting for him to awaken. Renado, Rusl, and Ilia had come by and left small flowers and gifts. Now that the boy was awake, though, he didn’t pay attention to a single thing left for him. He just looked miserable.

            Eric sighed, taking off his coat. He walked over to the boy’s bed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Link jumped, sending his small plate to the floor. The boy cursed before turning up to Eric. Eric just slightly grinned down at him. “How are you doing?” He asked, barely moving his lips.

            The boy sneered up at the red head, giving an unwelcome frown. He crossed his bony arms across his chest. “Just _fine._ I’m alright. I don’t need any of _your_ help.” Link quickly shot his head the opposite direction of Eric.

            Eric was taken back; his expression paused as Link’s words stung like salt in a wound. Pulling his hand away from the emaciated boy’s shoulder, his grin turned to a lost frown. His voice grew deep and stern as his words began to speak for themselves. “I’m disappointed _in you_.” He took a pause, emphasizing his pain, causing the boy to look back at him; a baffled parting of his lips was plastered on the blonde’s face. Eric turned his head down at Link, starting him directly in the eye. “I _saved you_. You should be grateful you are still alive. If I hadn’t found you in that alley, you wouldn’t be lying here, nor would I be here, speaking with you. We would have attended your funeral already and buried you back in Ordon.”

            Link only rolled his eyes, turning his head away from Eric. “Well, I didn’t want to be saved. Thanks for making my life ten times more miserable.”

            The red head sighed, and stepped away from the boy’s bed. Zelda, who was partly livid, took her place at the front of the boy’s bed. Link was taken back; her presence was unknown to him before. The boy’s face immediately flooded an embarrassed red – a guilty red. Zelda looked down upon him, her arms on her hips and her face as solid as a rock. The boy in front of her swelled up with tears and his lips trembled.

            “What the fucking hell,” the words left his lips quickly and shook the air. He curled himself in a tight ball under the sheets, a horrified expression on his face. Zelda cocked her head and squinted her eyes. The boy pulled himself away from the princess when she took a step closer to him. “G-get away from me!” Link’s eyes widened and he pulled himself tighter.

            “Link, what are you doing?” She reached her down on the sheets and the boy pulled back even more. Zelda scrunched her brows, reaching her hand over to brush his arm. Link only frantically swatted her away. The woman slowly pulled her hand away from the shaking boy. His face was tight and strained – something had scared him. She had seen him scared only once or twice, this was definitely far more than a little fear. He was _panicking_. 

            Eric laid his hand on Zelda’s shoulder, an intimation to leave Link alone. She did exactly so. Sighing, she stood herself from his bedside and stood adjacent to the red head. She turned her face to his ear. “Watch him; I’ll be busy for a few hours.” The man nodded to her orders.

            The princess then began to head past Eric, turning her head one last time to take a glimpse of Link: he was still curled up tightly, shaking and staring at the ground. Zelda sighed, and reached her hand to open the door. But she found it was opened the second she placed her hand on the doorknob. Zelda took a breath, shocked. The visitor was a friendly face, though. He was as close to Link as a father: Rusl had finally come. To Zelda’s surprise, though, the older man was taken back, stepping away from her.

            Almost immediately, the man knelt in front of her, taking his hat from his head and bowing. “My dearest, Princess Zelda,” Rusl spoke softly. The man noticed the shaking of the woman’s head, and quickly stood, returning his hat to his head. He brushed the dust from his knees. “Sorry, your majesty.” He paused and look at Zelda in the eyes, and then he looked around at her from almost every standing angle. “Sorry, you just look like somebody familiar. Anyways I ca-“

            “Who?” Zelda cut the man off. “Who do I look like?” She gestured her hand to the boy in the bed. “Whoever I look like scared the living daylights out of the boy. Who _ever_ I look like panicked him.” The princess’ stern expression dropped, however, when Rusl’s face turned white as stone.

            “Oh my goddesses,” the man mumbled. His head turned to the floor and he brought his hand to his mouth. Zelda scrunched her brows at him, curious, yet scared at the same time. Rusl then shook his head. “No wonder he panicked.” His gaze returned to meet with Zelda’s. “Do you know how his mother looks like?” The princess shook her head, she was confused with the question. Rusl smirked and Zelda closed the door to the office, leaving the two outside to discuss. “She has the same hair color as you, and the shape of her face. About the same height, too.” He took a pause. “And with your hair all frizzy like that, and in the ponytail that it’s in, you look just like his mother.” Rusl then folded his arms around his chest. “You look just like his mother, and with his sickly head, he probably confused you for her.”

            Zelda cocked her head and raised a brow. “But if he thought of me as his mother, why did he panic? Wouldn’t he have been overjoyed to see her?” She folded her arms and shivered, regretting leaving her cloak inside.

            Rusl took a sigh, and his small grin vanished. “Zelda, Link’s mother _died_ many, many years ago.” He placed his hand on the princess’ shoulder when her jaw dropped. “His father left Ordon when the woman told him of her pregnancy. As a village, we helped support her. When he was born, we all helped raise him. He still didn’t know he was a little fatherless bastard. He didn’t know he had a father at one point. His mother became the town’s medical expert, she felt that she had to return all the good deeds we did her and her son. And at the time, Link had befriended my eldest, Seth. But it was only a few moons after Seth turned four when he fell ill. Fatally ill. He had died in the care of Link’s mother. Sad part was, she contracted the same illness. Died only a few weeks later. The poor boy was traumatized – lost his friend _and_ mother in a matter of a moon.” Rusl took a sigh, facing the cobblestone ground, now. He took his hand from Zelda’s shoulder. “I took the boy in. Gave him the keys to his mother’s house when he turned fifteen. Over those many years, I had to learn not to mention his mother _or_ Seth. They cause him too much trouble.”

            Zelda covered her gaping mouth with her hands. She had never known all the trauma the boy went through. She now understood what Impa had meant when she said Seth’s name that one tragic night. She understood it now. Zelda then took her hands from her mouth and pulled all her hair back, removing the pony tail. She braided the brown hair down until it reached the small of her spine. Avoiding being mixed up with Link’s mother would surely help the boy.

            Rusl nodded in approval, and he reopened the door, and walked himself in. Zelda stood alone in the cold, and she began to walk down the streets. Her steps held a new will – a new meaning. Each stride on the street was forcefully put down with new determination, new reason to fight – new reason to save the boy. Zelda knew she needed to talk with Impa immediately – it needed to be done.

* * *

 

            Eric jumped when the older man, known as Rusl, entered the room. The red head grinned and waved, and the older man returned it. But the blonde man walked over to the boy huddle in the bed. He knelt beside him and wrapped an arm around Link’s shoulder. He held the boy tightly and whispered small phrases in his ears. Eric only watched as the boy’s face relaxed and he unwound his tight position. It was a reassuring sight.

            “Tell Zelda that I’m sorry,” Link mumbled as Rusl stood from his side. The boy’s face was hot and he couldn’t look Eric in the eye. Rusl patted the boy’s back, but his lip quivered and he only looked away from the men around him.

            Eric sighed and picked up some of the fallen fruit on the floor. He rubbed an apple against his own shirt, then held it in front of Link’s face. The boy widened his eyes and parted his lips, looking up at Eric with a baffled gaze. The red head’s expression prevailed stolid and firm. “You need to eat.”

            Link opened his mouth as to protest, but gave a heated sigh and took the red fruit in his palm. He took a bit of it and cringed, but chewed and swallowed. Eric and Rusl remained in their spots, to confirm that he ate at least _something_. The red head then passed over a small glass of water. Link looked up at him, his brows furrowed and his lips peaked in annoyance. He grumbled but chugged the water in seconds, slamming the glass on his little nightstand.

            “That’s better.” Eric gleamed down at the young man. The blonde’s arms were crossed and he glared up at Eric, not even making notice of Rusl in the room. The man had taught the boy better manners when he was a child – he was practically the father figure of his life. Unknown to Link, Rusl stood beside him with an unhappy frown plastered on his lips.

            “I didn’t need to eat, Eric,” the smaller grumbled. His voice faltered slightly, but only Eric had noticed. “I’m just _fine_. Didn’t I tell you?” The skinny boy stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. His attitude was returning to the stubborn know-it-all again.

            But then Rusl tapped the boy’s shoulder, and the blonde boy jumped. “Link,” the man shook his head and dropped his voice to a serious tone. “He and I, we’re only here to help. You need to respect that better. But, you really need to respect yourself.” Link whipped his head around and faced Rusl, who was sternly looking down at the boy. He grabbed the boy’s arm and poked at the bones jutting out. “You’re just skin and bone – you look like you’re dying.” The man had tears forming in his eyes. “You _need_ to take care of yourself.”

            Link stared up at him with bitterness. “I am _fine_.” His voiced echoed deeply. His lips were pursed into a tight frown. He waved his arms around in the air, acting as if he were offended. “How many times must I tell you?”

            Eric then stepped forward, his teeth grit and visible, and eyes livid with the quintessence of vexation. His height towered over Link with upmost superiority, at this point in the boy’s life he was ruled over by the posse of adults who committed themselves to his recovery. “You, my sir, are _not_ fine.” The red head huffed, crossing his arms and stamping a foot. “And since we all know you are unstable, you will be staying in the castle, with Zelda and I. Both she and I, along with Telma, Impa, and Rusl, will _all_ be taking part in this expedition, also known as your recovery.”

            The blonde boy fumbled with the sheets that came up to his waist; he was speechless, without words to say to Eric, and did not want to meet him in the eye. The stare that burned into his skin forced him otherwise. “Fine,” the mangled word fell from his lips as cold as ice.

            Eric smirked, although he wasn’t at all nearing satisfaction. He patted Link’s head and ruffled his hear. “That’s what I’d like to hear.” The younger only groaned and rolled his head, and dropped his head down on his pillow.

* * *

 

            Zelda entered her office to be met with the androgynous figure known to her as Impa. She nodded her head in recognition, and proceeded to stride to her mirror, removing the ponytails from her frizz filled hair. Impa watched each and every movement of the princess before daring to open her mouth. “It is almost complete.” The words nagged Zelda by the ears, forcing all of her attention to go toward the tan woman. “We are only missing two shards, from the center.”

            The princess nodded her head. “I have them.” She turned to face the woman, all senses of worry had faded away over the past few hours, but frustration and sorrow replaced them. Zelda turned to the floor, and then back up toward Impa. “How long can my crew guard the mirror – until Link is fit to activate it?”

            Impa smirked and crossed her arms. “I am sure we can do as long as he will need.” She stared out the window at the setting sun. The stars that began to align themselves in the sky formed a circular shape, as if to resemble the mirror. “If I mention his title, of course they would oblige.” Zelda nodded to the woman, but Impa read through the mask of nonchalance, and questioned her feelings. “What is wrong, my grace?”

            The princess sighed, sitting herself on the edge of her desk’s chair. “Link.” She faced the floor. “He woke up today. He’s delirious, unable to really function. He doesn’t want to believe a word anybody says.” Tears formed along the princess’ eyes, returning her resentful gaze to Impa. “He mistook me for his mother, who is long past. I think I gave him a panic attack.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes dry.  “I didn’t mean to scare him at all.”

            Impa shrugged her shoulders, and rested a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “Maybe if you treated him like you were his mother, it would aid him more rather than seeming like the babysitter.” And then Zelda gasped with realization – Impa was right.

 


	11. Urgency of the Decision

            A matted length of dirty blonde hair was held tightly in Eric’s hand, as the shorter doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach. Link coughed and sputtered as he returned to his height, a flighty glaze covering his eyes, and fell back on the taller. The red head supported the boy as his energy was wasted, and dragged him back to the bed. Link was not in enough of stable condition to follow through with Zelda’s plans. Eric had become the boy’s aid, he watched him rise and fall. He noted the slight weight gain, and the return to a twig; he noted the day’s Link could eat, the others were he lost it; the days were the boy could stand and walk, and the days where he could barely move. His recovery was slow, but he was getting better, slightly.

            Eric sighed, confirming Link was safe while sprawled across the bed, and went to dump the newly filled vomit bucket. He sneered as he lifted the rancid tub, but his eyes widened when he remarked something offbeat: there was blood. Shaking, Eric returned the bucket to the ground and directed his head towards Link – he was asleep. Cursing, he stomped his foot on the floor, and hurried himself out of the boy’s room. He ran down the halls, sprinted up the stairs, but was halted in front of Zelda’s door.

            The guard stuck his thin blade out at Eric, standing between him and the door. “You cannot pass.” The man mumbled, his jaw tight and words acrid towards Eric. Placing his weak sword back in its scabbard, the man reopened his mouth. “All you’re going to say is something along the lines of ‘It’s about Link!’, but I do not care. Everything you say to her anymore is about that weak brat.” The man scoffed and grunted, awkwardly grinding the ball of his foot against the floor. “Zelda needs to focus on the success of Hyrule, not that unstable freak. We need to regain our economy, and the princess has to choose her suitor, to claim her title as queen and to create an alliance with a neighboring nation.”

            The man paused and glared Eric straight in the eye. “That boy doesn’t matter right now – he is only a spec in a pile of dust. There are more important matters than him.”

            Eric scowled, a livid flame growing in his chest, and took a step forward. “No.” The guard was taken back and raised a brow. “He _is_ important.” Raising a finger, Eric jabbed it at the chest of the guard. “I used to be a pitiful guard like you. Instead of being such a grump, though, I gained the trust of the princess herself. She _trusted_ me with the care of Link, who she highly cares about. She specifically told me to get her if anything goes wrong.” Taking a breath, he pulled himself away from the guard – his face inched closer and closer as he had spoken.

            “And something has gone terribly wrong. I must tell her immediately.” He stood taller and reached his fists toward the ground, perfecting his posture. Eric towered over the cowering guard. “I suggest you change your unsympathetic ways and let me through. I used to hold the same position as you, but attitude makes all the difference.” And with his final words he strutted right by the guard and into Zelda’s chamber.

            He entered to find the princess pacing the floor, her hair tied up like it was the day she had scared Link. Another woman was in the room, her skin was dark and her hair was platinum. She looked all too familiar to Eric. He knew her, from somewhere, but he didn’t know where. Zelda continued to pace and rant as the other listened – neither of them had noticed Eric enter.

            “Three noble princes had proposed marriage, and all three of their homelands are quite economically stable. But they would each have to travel vast distances to reach Hyrule. I don’t want to risk their lives, but I _need_ to be crowned queen to be able to rule my country properly.” Zelda grabbed the sides of her head and pushed on her temples – a little habit Eric had picked up on, she did it either when she was stressed or had a migraine. “Impa, I do not know what to do. I have to continue to aid Hyrule, but on the other hand, we have Link!”

            “He hasn’t recovered much, as I hear.” Her paces picked up speed, as well as her speech. “He is still quite sickly. It has been four months of waiting – waiting for him to recover. When he recovers we can take him to the mirror and make his life better again and… and…” Zelda stopped in her tracks, her voiced faded to nothing. Gradually, she lifted her head and faced Impa with sullen eyes. “I just want him to be happy and alive. We owe him that, at the least, for all he did.” Then she turned to the door, to make eyes with Eric.

            Zelda’s face blushed and eyes widened and lips parted. “Eric.”

            The red head nodded to the princess, taking a slight bow. Facing Impa, his voice was monotone. “You’re the woman who helped me find Link, correct?” She nodded. Eric sighed of relief, but his voice returned to his grave tone as Zelda took steps forward toward him. “It’s Link.” He watched the princess’ eyes turn stone cold. “He got worse.” Her lips quivered and began to creep down. “There was blood in his vomit.” She stopped moving altogether, and Impa appeared behind her, placing a hand on the princess’ shoulder.

            Eric had never seen Zelda’s eyes so wide, even of all the years he worked alongside her. The olive green globes that floated in the whites of her eye were almost invisible underneath blackness. Words were gibberish flowing from her lips, but few were made out. “Get Borville…. Now.”

            The red head took a deep breath and nodded, turning on his heel and quickly exiting her office. He ran through the castle – he knew the halls and the infrastructure of the castle in his sleep. In only minutes he was outside the castle walls, and nearing the stables. Eric fastened up Epona, and hoped for the best when he placed himself on her back – luckily, she accepted him. The duo took off cantering down the castle streets. Eric assumed the friendly beast below him sense the grave feelings in the atmosphere, the feelings for her master.

            Pulling the mare to a quick halt, Eric dismounted to his left and didn’t bother to tie Epona down before running into Borville’s office. There were several patients. Cursing, Eric balled his hand into a fist. Borville emerged from behind a curtain to greet what he thought was an ordinary customer, but then his face dropped.

            “Eric,” the older man whispered. “What are you doing here?”

            The red head heaved to catch his breath, his face still a pungent red. He took a step forward before opening his mouth to speak. “It’s Link. Blood came up.”

            Borville’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. He gestured Eric out the door, but showed that he would quickly follow. The older man faced the two remaining patients and explained the urgency of the situation, compared to their colds. Luckily, they didn’t argue with the man, allowing him to hurry along with Eric. And despite having both of them on her back, Epona showed no struggled in racing them back to the castle.

            In the nick of time, too: Link was waking up as the old man and Eric entered his room. The blonde boy grabbed his head and stared at the doctor, his head cocked, as the man began a thorough examination. Borville’s face cringed slightly when he placed the cold stethoscope on the boy’s chest – something was wrong. Then there was a knock at the door: Zelda and Impa.

            Borville slightly jumped when Zelda rushed passed him to Link, who was buried under blankets and sheets. His eyes fluttered to stay open as time had gone on. Eric grabbed the princess’ attention by a slight tap on her shoulder. Turning her head slightly, she then twisted herself completely around to face all three: Impa, Borville and Eric.

            Borville sighed, but stepped forward. “You _need_ to take him to the mirror.”

            Zelda gasped, and scrunched her brows at the short man. “How do you know of that?”

            The older man rolled his eyes and nudged over at Eric and Impa, who were sheepishly staring at the floor. “Told me you were going to take him there after he was well again, to regain his spirits. Am I correct?” Zelda nodded. “Well you need to take him there _now_ , or he may never get better.”

            Zelda raised a brow, and opened her mouth to reveal an inquisitive tone. “Why?” She paused. “I don’t want to take him while he’s ill, just in case something goes wrong in the Twilight Realm.”

            Borville shoved his face in his hands and grumbled, “He isn’t going to get any better unless his mood is better than it is! If he continues to feel as hopeless as he is, he’s just going to rot away in this bed and die.”

            Zelda couldn’t speak. The words were caught in her throat as she stared down at the man. His face was stern but his eyes were flooded with all the concern. Borville truly cared for the wellbeing of Link, and he knew what exactly they would have to do to save the boy. He wouldn’t be of any use if Zelda was too afraid to do what he said, though. Eric trusted the old man, so did Impa. Zelda should, too.

            The old man turned to leave, facing Eric one last time. “Make sure he is taken to the mirror in the next few days, or else he may die.” Eric gulped and nodded.

            The princess still stood speechless as Borville left. She stared at Link. She traced the outline of his cheeks to his collarbones, visible through the thin shirt Eric had lent him. Her eyes welled up with salty teardrops, and released them when Impa tried to approach her.

            “I don’t want to fail him."

* * *

 

            Telma harnessed the two beasts and buckled them to the wagon: Epona and Zelda’s horse seemed to get along easy, thankfully. Zelda was inside the back, cleaning off any extra straw and suiting up a clean area. Standing from her knees, the princess climbed out the back of the cart, landing on her two feet and brushing off the dust from her clothes. Telma smiled at Zelda and led her to the two horses.

            Rubbing the muzzle of her horse, her slight grin diminished, leaving a blank tone in her lips. Turning to Telma, her gaze flickered. “Do you think he’ll be alright?” Zelda sighed, turning her eyes to the horse’s hooves. “What if the Twili think of him as an intruder when he enters, and hurt him? What if he is too weak to actually go through the portal? What if –“

            Telma shut Zelda’s mouth by placing her fingers over the other’s lips. “No ‘what if’s. We know we need to do it. So we will.” The princess’s gaze with Telma faltered and flooded with a cold dread, but even Telma herself showed slight discomfort. “I feel guilty for allowing such events to go down that night. I feel guilty that I left him alone when I knew he was down. I shouldn’t have been so stupid, if I hadn’t had left him, he wouldn’t be in this sickly state.”

            The plump woman pulled her hand from Zelda’s lips and let it fall to her side. Zelda responded by placing a hand on her shoulder, trying to grin to lighten the mood. “You know, we _all_ have things we regret. But life goes on, and we should stop with the ‘if’s and ‘what if’s, right?” Telma raised a brow, hearing Zelda herself somewhat quote her. The woman raised her lips and nodded.

            “That is true.” Turning her head toward the horizon, she saw the sun starting to rise over the hills of the Snowpeak Mountains. She turned to face Zelda directly and grinned. “Today, we are going to save the boy.” And to that Zelda shook her head firmly. And the two women waited for Eric and Impa to bring Link from the castle.

* * *

 

            “Link, you need to get up,” Eric begged by the boy’s bed, stroking a hand through his matted hair. He was only granted a groan as a reply. Huffing, the red head pulled at Link’s shoulder and sat him up. “C’mon, we need to go. You’re going to have a really good day today.”

            The half-asleep boy raised a brow at Eric, presuming his words were sarcastic, as his recent days had been utterly miserable. “You ought to be crazy.” The words fell from his lips, quietly and lifeless.

            “I’m actually being quite serious, for once.” Eric shook his head, lifting the boy’s arms and pulled his musty and feeble, stained shirt overtop his head. Before slipping on the new shirt, the red head took note of Link’s frame: he saw each and every rib. His collarbones stuck out like a neglected animal’s and the skin that wrapped over him was a pale and sallow shade. Ripping the sight from his mind, Eric slipped the boy in a nicer, button down shirt, which used to be his from when he was Link’s age. Yes, it was big on him – Eric was a lot taller – but it thoroughly hid the boy’s thinning frame.

            The red head then dragged the boy out from under the blankets and handed him a pair of slacks. Link was confused, but shrugged, slipped off his current pair and replaced it with the new pair. The whole outfit was big on the boy, but Eric had taken his belt around Link’s waist and then tucked the shirt in so it wouldn’t look _as_ bad.

            “I look stupid,” Link coughed, frowning at his appearance in the mirror.

            Eric shook his head. “Nonsense, you look _dashing_.” The red head smirked and raised a brow. Wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulder, directing him towards the door, Eric laughed. “And we’re off.”

            “Where?” the smaller questioned, perking a brow.

            The red head smirked, poking the younger’s nose, causing his eyes to widen and jump slightly. “Now that’s a surprise.” Link sneered at the older, who simply smirked. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

            The duo then reached the stairwell, where Link halted. He felt his knees crumbled and weaken, causing him to lean on Eric. He looked up at the red head with wide eyes and gritted teeth, to which Eric smiled. He slipped an arm around the younger’s shoulder, and another under his knees, and lifted him off the ground. “I carried you in here, and now I’m carrying you out.” Link smirked as Eric began to take him down the stairs.

            The two reached the bottom of the stairwell, where Eric returned Link to standing on his feet. The boy’s face was bright red. “Thank you, Eric.”

            The red head grinned, closing his eyes and patting the boy’s back. “It’s nothing. Just doing deeds for a friend.” The blonde’s face darkened the crimson shade to Eric’s words.     

            Impa then walked up to their side from an empty castle in the hallway. She grinned slightly at the two and gestured to the carefully wrapped cloth in her hands. “Shall we go now?”

            Eric nodded and opened the door for the blonde, who dragged his feet right on through. The three were greeted by Zelda and Telma rested up against the wagon. The red head aided Link to the wagon and in it, and then helped Zelda step up into it. Eric took the shards from Impa and passed them on to Zelda before climbing in the wagon. The tan woman nodded and seated herself in the driver’s bench alongside Telma.

            “To Arbiter’s Grounds?” Telma asked the woman beside her.

            Impa nodded. Telma then whipped the horses into motion, and they began to smoothly canter from the castle grounds and out past the town into Hyrule field. Link sat next to Eric in the back of the wagon, his arms crossed and his lips pursed. Neither Zelda nor Eric could get words out of him. He only turned his face away from theirs when they wanted a response from him.

            Zelda reached across the wagon to place a hand on the blonde’s shoulders: his lip twitched but he refused to look at her. “Why won’t you talk to us?”

            Eric nudged the boy in the side, as well, and added, “Yeah, you were in such a good mood earlier.”

            Link rolled his eyes and whirled his head to face Zelda’s. His jaw was crooked and his teeth her were tight. His eyelids half covered his eyes, and he had a perked brow. An obvious tone of vexation lingered in his voice. “Why am I going to Arbiter’s Grounds? I’ve told you countless times that I do _not_ want to go back there, so why are you guys taking me? I heard Telma yell it to the Sheikah woman up front.” He sarcastically laughed and turned his gaze away from Zelda’s. “I told you that I didn’t want to go back, and you know why.” His lighthearted expression then returned to his irritated state. “And especially on the day which I turn nineteen – the anniversary of that… of… that…” His voice trailed off into nothing. Link couldn’t finish his sentence.

            Zelda’s lips formed a small frown while parted, her eyes wide and eyebrows hanging low. “I hadn’t realized that it’s been a year, nor did I know that it was your birthday.”

            “To hell with both of those meaningless celebrations – I couldn’t care anymore.” The boy shrugged and scooted himself away from Zelda and Eric and looked out the small opening down at Lake Hylia.

            The princess looked up at Eric, who was in as much shock as she was. Link had hit his breaking point and he was making it obvious. Zelda grinned, thankful that today was the day they went – after what she had planned, Link would no longer have a dearth for Midna. He would, if this worked out as planned, see her again.

* * *

 

            It was nearing sunset when Telma slowed the horses to a halt. Eric exited the back of the wagon first, aiding Zelda and Link with hopping out. The young boy was still in a bitter mood, and so Eric sighed and threw him over his shoulder as they began to trek up to the mirror chamber. Impa had volunteered to stay back with the horses. And so Zelda led the way, carefully handling the cloth in her hands, as Eric and Telma followed.

            Link fidgeted in Eric’s grip. “I can walk, you know,” a stinging taint to his words.

            The red head gave a haughty laugh. “No you can’t. I know you’ve been here several times, but you nearly died and you are no better off than before. I’m carrying you up.”

            Link huffed and crossed his arms, refusing to give words. He wasn’t in a good mood, but it was to be expected. Such a tragic day for the boy, and they had brought him back to the root of it.

            Zelda took each step carefully, she remembered the last time she and Link exited the grounds, he had to show her where each of the little traps were. Remembering them now was a pain, but she trusted in the gift of wisdom that the goddesses’ had granted her with the triforce and began to lead her small group to the top of the tower – where the mirror had found home.

            After a good hour, Zelda had retraced her steps almost perfectly and guided the group to the safety of the chamber. Eric plopped Link on his feet, to which the shorter grumbled and crossed his arms.

            “I don’t want to be here,” his tone was bitter, yet it shook tremendously. The emotional attachment he had to this area just caused him enough pain to think about it. Now he stood in it once again, and all hell was breaking loose in his head.

            “I know you don’t,” Zelda whispered to him in the most placid tone possible. “This place is saddening to me, as well.” She sighed and stared the blonde in the eye. “But I brought you here for your wellbeing. And so –“

            “Wait, hold on a sec,” Link interrupted, waving his arms around in a baffled manner. “ _How_ is bringing me here doing me any good?” His voice shook as tears formed in his eyes. “All I feel right now is hurt, the pain and memories of that day.” He erupted in tears and his voice cracked several times. “I don’t want to be here, Zelda!”

            Zelda wanted to remain stolid, but the sight before her cracked through her hard shell. She sighed and went up the boy and hugged him. Holding his head in the crook of her neck, she whispered in his ear. “I know you don’t want to be here, I know. But I brought you here for a good reason, and I swear you’ll like it.” She pulled away the sniffling mess and dried his eyes, looking him in the eye. “Trust me on this.”

            Link sighed and nodded, taking his sleeves to his eyes. He watched the small cloth in Zelda’s hands. She passed it to Eric, who held it as she unfolded it, revealing two mirror shards: his and hers. The brunette took the shard which she had taken and approached the mirror, which to Link’s surprise, was almost put back together except for two center pieces. The boy’s mouth gaped wide open as Zelda pushed in her shard in the mirror, leaving only one space left: his shard.

            Zelda turned back to Link and grinned. “You see what I’m saying?”

            The blonde boy nodded and reached over to Eric, snatching up his piece. He held it so dearly and he smiled slightly. “This was my last remnant of her, the last remnant of my friend.” He looked up at Zelda who was returning from the mirror’s pedestal. She only nudged her shoulder toward the mirror and Link gulped, determination flooding his face.

            Eric took a step forward to Link, prepared to help him, before Zelda stuck her arm out at his chest. The red head look at her with a raised brow and the quintessence of puzzlement flooding his face. “Shouldn’t I help him walk up to the pedestal?”

            Zelda shook her head. “No.” Her gaze returned to the boy standing at the foot of stairs leading to the mirror. “He wants to do it on his own – I can see it in his eyes.”

            And then Link took a step up – not gracefully, more wobbly than anything, followed by another, and another, and many more. Each step uneasy in his balance, with some stumbled along the way. By the time he reached the height of the small incline, he was doubled over panting: his ailments had done him in with his health, as he could barely walk over a flight of stairs that was quite short.

            Zelda and Eric watched carefully as Link stood and regained his composure. He held the fragment of the mirror tight in his hand; his knuckles were white under such pressure. Taking a step forward, he approached the mirror.

            Link stared at the mirror for several minutes. He took in its extravagant details, the artistry of the design, and the eloquence of it all. Grinning up at the Mirror of Twilight, Link raised the shard in his hand and looked at it. He grinned and tears flowed down his cheeks. He was laughing hysterically, too. It was obvious he couldn’t believe what was happening before him.

            Just as he was about to place the remnant in its place, Link turned to Zelda, Eric, and Telma. His smile held such unfeigned happiness, elated joy: each of them grinned at him with the same ferocity. Tears streamed down his face as his smile took over most of the space of his cheeks. “T-thank you so much… I have no words to explain how excited I am.” He could barely handle his happiness, as unevenly jumped on the balls of his feet. “I get to see Midna again!”

            Telma nodded and giggled. “We know. That was the plan all along. Now go – go see your girlfriend!” Both Eric and Zelda stared wide-eyed at Telma – as far as they knew, the duo had never been an item.

            Link turned back to the mirror and gulped, placing his shard in the last empty space, filling the mirror. And then the Mirror of Twilight shone bright, each crack that had been once there disappeared, revealing the mirror whole again. The boy’s eyes were bright and wide as the light shone off the mirror and onto the opposing rock. The portal began to form and Link began to approach it.

            The mirror had been activated and Zelda’s plan had worked.


	12. The Twilight Realm

A gust of wind blew through the chamber as the portal completely lit up. Link looked back at Telma, Eric, and Zelda with a wide grin on his face, just begging for reassurance. Zelda and Eric nodded, and the blonde boy turned back to the slab of stone, and placed his left hand on the triforce engraved in the center. The portal glowed white and Link was immersed in a shroud of black, and then he vanished as small specs in the sky. He was on the other side of the world now.

            Going through the portal felt as if he was floating in air, Link sprawled out as he felt himself flow through the realms. But, he had been ignorant to the idea of landing. Before he knew it, his small joyride was over and he felt to the earth with a loud thud. Groaning, he slowly sat himself, feeling a pop in his hips. Link grimaced, but pulled himself to his feet in a wobbly manner. The sudden standing caused the blood to rush from his head and down south, leaving his vision blurry.

            Two generic figures seemed to be approaching Link – he couldn’t identify them, though. As his vision began to clarify, the black patterns along their skin became clear – their fiery hair stood out against the blackness of the world. The sour and grim frowns on their lips growing detailed as Link’s vision returned to normal – their eyes burning with fear and hate. The boy’s depth perception was off, though, as in seconds a spearhead was held at his throat, and a hand firmly gripped his shoulder.

            “Who are you?” the guard hissed at Link, his voice extremely deep – intimidating, actually. The edge around Link’s neck was pulled away and replaced by a hand, that was almost as big as the boy’s face, that could suffocate him if need be.

            Link gulped, nervously watching the pulsing fingers wrapped around his neck, before staring into the eyes of the guard and giving off a confident grin. “Sir, I am the Hero of Twilight. I have been sent here to request an audience with Princess Midna.

            “Sent by whom?” The Twili’s voice boomed as he leant in to the boy’s face.

            The blonde’s eye widened in fear, and sweat began to bead around his forehead. “By Princess Zelda of Hyrule, s-sir.”

            The grip on the boy’s neck tightened as the Twili snarled and shook his head. “I believe you for all but one detail.” The guard snickered as he watched Link raise a brow. “I do not believe you are the Hero of Twilight.” As the boy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, the guard almost suffocated the boy, resulting with the Hylian’s hands tugging at the Twilit hand around his neck. “Princess Midna had said she traveled the land of Hyrule with the Hero of Twilight, who was garbed in green; a tunic and hat. You, my friend, are neither dressed in green, nor wear such a novel outfit. I do not believe you are the Hero that the Princess has spoken of.”

            Link stood there hopelessly, he wanted to speak, but he was already struggling underneath the grip of the guard. Despite that he clawed at the Twili’s thick hands, his efforts made no change in the constricting path for his lungs. They began to burn as his vision began to fade, once again. His head grew dizzy, and his heart raced. This feeling was all too familiar.

            His knees buckled underneath him and it all went black. The Twili snickered as he released the boy’s neck, letting him fall to the ground like a dead body. Proceeding to grab an ankle, he turned to face the other guard. “Inform the Princess of our little trespasser. I’ll be taking him to the prison if she wishes to provide audience to him.”           

            And with that, the smaller of the two scurried off. The guard began to walk; Link was being dragged by his previously injured ankle across the ground, and to the prison. The guard could’ve so easily thrown him into the never ending nothingness below them, but they figured a light dweller could mean something. As far as they knew, Midna destroyed the mirror. As far as they knew, light dwellers couldn’t pass. As far as Midna knew, Link shouldn’t have been able to pass into her realm. As far as Link knew, he may have come to the realm of Twilight only to be sentenced to death.

* * *

 

            Pacing, pacing, pacing around the empty hall; that was all she had been doing the past year. Stressed? She’d pace the hall. Longed for _him_? Paced the hall. Most of what tortured her had to do with _him_. The council had grown sick of her constant worry – she had a realm to run, and she wasn’t doing it well enough. They wanted her out. She couldn’t, though – no, she wasn’t going to abandon the seat to which she gave up her best friend for. No, she wouldn’t take Link for granted like so. She wouldn’t.

            “Princess Midna,” a deep voice called her from the entrance of the throne room.

            The princess turned her head to face one of the guards – a guard which looked flushed and worn out. She took in a deep breath and sighed, pulling at the hair around her neck, tugging at her robe. “What is it?”

            The guard stood on his feet uneasily, swaying from side to side: and Midna picked it up. He opened his mouth and spoke, “There has been an intruder from the light realm. We locked ‘em up, and figured you should meet this trespasser. That’s if you would like to. The man begged for an audience from you.” The man’s words were icy and stung – Midna appeared to be the only one of the Twili who _didn’t_ hate the light dwellers. She could never hate them, not after what _he_ did for her.

            Midna twisted her hair around her finger, thinking over the situation. “Did he say his name?”

            The guard turned bright red and fumbled at his chin. “Um… yes, he did. Unfortunately, I cannot remember it.”

            The princess pursed her lips and glared at the stout Twili, rolling her eyes and releasing an exasperated sigh. “What does he look like then?”

            Laughing, the stout guard held his hand up to about the bottom of his nose. “He stood up to here, and was practically a skeleton underneath his clothes.”

            Midna raised a brow and collected her skirt in her hands, taking large strides over to the door. “Take me to his light dweller – I will give him an audience.” She only hoped and prayed it was who she thought. She didn’t want some freak showing up here. She only wanted that one person here right now. But as the description ran through her mind – there was a large possibility that it wasn’t him.

* * *

 

            The blonde began to groan with each thump of his head against the rocky, twilit soil. A solid bump had already formed and was beginning to bruise. Each further bash against the ground only made it tenfold worse. Pain snaked up his leg with the bad ankle, and a constricting grip the source of it. Link had awoken to his thoughtless body being dragged by the guard who had harassed him just earlier. His eyes shot wide open when he felt a sharp tip of a stone jab up against his head and he yelped, thus cascading to a loss of control and a seizure of his limbs, alerting the guard.

            The Twili immediately turned and faced to him, towering over his twiggy body sprawled helplessly on the ground. The black and white beast balled his hands in fists, cracking his knuckles. Link gulped – knowing this as a gesture to fight from back in Hyrule, unsure whether it had the same meaning in the twilight realm.

            Link raised his hands in the air, as a sign of peace. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather walk.” His eyes were wide and lips quivered. His head throbbed as it bruised and the headache set on.

            The Twili only stared down at him and huffed, releasing a sight. “Fine.” He crossed his arms as the boy struggled to stand. Once he was on his feet, the guard took no time to latch Link’s hands behind his back with cuffs. He then gave a weighty shove to the light dweller’s back, forcing him to walk.

            Link stumbled many times whilst walking with the guard. His body was still weak, even with the aid of the Twili. With each trip and fall, the boy’s heart raced and he grew scared – scared of the guard. He didn’t want the guard to jump and attack him. He had already gotten kicked in the side the first time he fell, and that had already broken a rib.

            Eventually, the guard had given up in walking Link – he picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, just like Eric had done at the Arbiter’s Grounds. The blonde grumbled underneath his breath, but kept his words silent to prevent from provoking the guard. It seemed to be forever, being hung over the Twili’s shoulder. Eventually, Link closed his eyes, growing drowsy to the rhythm of the walking. It was all calm and peaceful, until the boy was awakened with a painful thud against a stone wall.

            Link winced and a small whimper flew from his throat. The guard snickered and proceeded to lock the light dweller up in cuffs that attached to the wall. He was kneeling on the ground with his hands tied up around his back. Forced to stare at his abdomen, Link noted the smears of soil and the stains of grass that lined his shirt – rather Eric’s shirt. He gave an uneasy frown until it was swept away by a slap to his face.

            The skin on his cheek stung, and Link felt the blood rush to his face as he coughed. Panting, he glazed up at the Twili guard, who held an impervious frown, his lips pursed and brows scrunched. Link opened his mouth to speak, until the guard’s foot made impact with his gut. “You will not speak, light dweller!” As Link doubled over in pain, being forced to empty the contents of his stomach, the guard rested his foot on the boy’s back and leant all his weight to it.

            Grabbing at a mat of hair, the guard stepped off the boy and yanked his head up. Link winced and clenched his jaw, glancing up at the Twili with exasperated glare. The blonde felt the tug at hair fall short and his head fell to gravity’s needs and hung low, an ache in his neck sparking due to the sudden movement. The guard’s barbaric hand grappled at the back of his shirt, pulling up hard on it. Link felt his body get lifted by the pulling of the guard, but eventually a sweaty hand was slapped on his neck and held him down as the shirt was ripped from his skin.

            The shirt had been strewn aside as the Twili mocked the blonde’s frame: laughing at each bone that stuck out – each rib, his collarbones, shoulders, twiggy arms. Link turned away from the guard, ashamed for his sickly self. A yelp was flung out of his throat as a booted foot swung into his stomach, jerking his body to the side. The boy’s jaw was tight and his lips trembled, as he tried to shut his eyes to hide the forming tears. He could hear the hatred for his kind in the guard’s laugh – his menacing cackle that just wanted to _kill_ him.

            The Twili’s fit of malicious joy was halted by a knock the prison’s door. Immediately the guard sneered town at Link. “At least make yourself look somewhat presentable.” As the guard looked away, Link gave an undeniable glare up at the Twili, his anger growing by each action taken towards him. “Who is it that is requesting an audience in here?”

            The quiet voice outside the door practically yelled to get heard. “The princess, Rogan! Princess Midna! She wishes to seek audience with the light dweller!”

            Link’s eyes widened and a faint gasp flew from his lips. Midna was only yards away from him. Yet here he was – a corpse chained to a wall. Tears began to flood his eyes, and he couldn’t hide them any longer. The guard sneered down at his babyish cries, but proceeded to unlock the cell door, allowing the princess to make her first steps through.

            The blonde watched her each and every movement, her face turned to his, but it appeared he wasn’t recognized. The shadow’s that made an ocean of the room – hiding his face to the princess. Link wanted to cry out her name, but the words only remaining in his throat, buried under vocal chords and fear.

            The guard approached him with Midna, and the princess stared down at him. A grimace found its place upon her lips as subtle words left her lips. “Who are you? And how did you enter the Twilit Realm?” Link watched her eyebrows scrunch and her lips purse – he was mesmerized by her face, having not seen it in a year. His trance was broken when she stamped her foot, yelling, “Answer me, light dweller!”

            Taken back by her fierce words, the blonde took a breath, turned his head up to meet her eyes and opened his lips, speaking loud and firm. “Midna, it’s me, Link: the one who traveled with you, the Hero of Twilight!” By the end of his sentence, his voice had cracked and dropped in intensity, lowered a seventh, and began to shake with fear. Link took another breath, and began to speak again. “Zelda found all the small shards of mirror scattered around the Gerudo sand, and put it together for me. She used her own magic to activate it. She did it so… so I could see you.”

            Midna opened her mouth to yell at the boy for not addressing her properly, but then her eyes widened. She fell to her knees and placed her hands on the boy’s shoulder, astonished by his boniness. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, her eyes welled up with tears as she stared into the blue irises of the boy’s. An overjoyed and cheesy grin enveloped her cheeks and she pulled Link into her arms, holding him to her body. The guard’s stared down at the duo, baffled at the sight.

            “Release him, now,” Midna firmly ordered. The guards obliged and the boy’s hands fell limp, his body falling forward onto hers. Midna took better grip of him, and cradled him gently. “What happened to you?” she whispered into Link’s ear, as she ran her fingers up and down his back, feeling each rib, the hideous scar, and the goose bumps that covered his skin. She jumped when she felt a wet drop meet her shoulder.

            Link didn’t regret that he let his tears fall. But he felt himself growly dizzy, from excitement, exhaustion, illness, weakness, and injury. He couldn’t help it – his body was overwhelmed. The words barely made it from his lips before he collapsed onto her. “I’m so sorry, Midna.”

            The Twilit Princess stared wide-eyed at the blonde as he was faint in her arms. Quickly, she picked him up and carried him in her arms – he was rather skinny and light. She began to her way back to the castle with the boy Link would be staying in Midna’s quarters, until he was better and from then on. She wasn’t going to let him leave her sight again.

* * *

 

            Pounding at his skull, a steady beat throbbed at his head and he groaned. His lips formed an evident frown, and a snake-like hiss escaped the boy’s cold lips. As Link began to flutter his eyes open, a cold hand met his cheek. It wasn’t his own; the skin was soft and warm, like a baby’s – his hands were rough and lined with callouses. He felt dumbfounded, that his first instinctual reaction to the new sensation was to unevenly squint his eyes and scrunch up his face. Once his eyes finally widened, he saw a black and pale blue blur staring down at him – a light giggle, too.

            “Nice to see you’re finally awake, wolf boy.” The woman snickered.

            Immediately, his vision returned to normal, and he busted forward from the bed and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Link buried his head in her shoulder, sobbing and releasing incoherent noises. “Goddesses, I can’t believe it.” He couldn’t keep a steady tone to his voice as he spoke – it bobbed up and down with his cries. “I’m here, seeing you. I’m with you. I never thought I would see you again. I was afraid my longing would kill me, somehow I survived and I’m here.” He took a breath; pulling his face from her shoulder, remaining less than an inch from the woman’s face. “I missed you so much, Midna.”

            The Twili smiled and ruffled his hair. Midna gleamed as the smirk formed upon his lips. Her hands traced down his head, across his jaw, down his neck and to his ribs. She frowned as her finger ran through each rib, falling in each deep chasm between the bones – Link only winced.

            Midna looked at Link in the eyes, tears welling up in her own as the boy’s filled with fear. The Twili brushed a strand of hair from the boy’s face, as she prepared her lips to speak. “What happened to you?”

            Link’s widened eyes drooped, as if he expected such words, and a faint sigh made its way through the air. Midna watched as his eyes stared at the floor. They flickered from left to right at times, as if he were reading. The color of his face dropped and so did his tone.

            “A lot has happened in the past year, Midna.” Humble and soft words grew icy and grave as he began to explain, taking the princess’ hand in his own, entangling his fingers around hers, to feel some sense of comfort. “Without you, I had no strand of hope to hold on to.

            “I felt like a person drowning in water, with nothing to hold on to – no drifting wood, nobody readily throwing a rope to drag me back to shore. I just felt so… so empty. I hated it. I hated feeling such a way. In my own denial of the event, I had fallen, breaking an ankle.” He gestured to his slightly askew ankle. “And the scar on my back? I forgot to treat it, and almost died of the infection. Thankfully, Zelda and Telma had found me. They had requested Renado in nursing me back to life.

            “That was when Zelda took me in to Hyrule, forced me to room at the castle. It was there I made a friend – Eric. The only guard of Zelda’s who was Hylian, like she and I. The first time I came he gave me a cigar. But I idiotically went back for more – it only stunted my recovery. I grew thin – much thinner than I am now. Trust me; I’ve put on a _little_ weight.” Midna snickered to his emphasis, like he was anything close to healthy.

            “But then I lost it. Eric had taken me for a walk in the town, and we visited Telma. Got in a little dispute about drinking a shot of liquor.” Link snorted and shrugged his shoulders. “One shot never hurt nobody. I guess I was emotional that day, and I stormed right on out. In my lonely endeavors that day, I ran into a few old friends. Their concern for me threw me over the edge.

            “I got in an argument with Zelda and I practically kicked myself out of the castle. I stayed with Telma… _that_ night.” Link took a pause, his skin was white and his eyes were wide, and rested his head on Midna’s shoulder. “That night, I tried to die. I figured that if I would never be happy without you, and that I couldn’t see you again, I shouldn’t have to suffer.” Midna’s hold on Link’s hand tightened as she used the other to pull him into the crook of her neck. “I almost died, if it weren’t for Eric. He found me passed out in an alley and saved me.

            “After being out cold for two weeks, I woke up. Then after another four months of minimal recovery, Zelda informed me that she reconfigured the mirror.” Slowly, Link pulled himself away from Midna and grinned cheerily at her. “And here I am.” He then took his hands and embraced her in a hug.

            Minda returned the gesture, streaming tears down her face. “I’m just glad you’re still okay, somewhat.”

            But then the happiness grew quiet, and the room’s warm air chilled.

            “Midna?”

            “Yes, Link?”

            “Can I stay here? With you? Until I’m back to my normal self again?”

            The Twili smiled. “Of course. Why would I deny you?”

            Link sighed, pursing his lips and mustering courage. “Because you shattered the mirror those many moons ago, although we had made a promise to never leave each other’s sides.”


	13. The Twilit Princess and her Wolf

            Midna stammered, caressing the blonde hair in her hands. “I was scared, Link.” She sighed, looking down into his eyes. “I didn’t want any further psychotic Twili to invade your realm.” Link exhaled a warm breath, and his stolid expression only transferred as disbelief, which he had a right to at the time. “You remember, on that day many moons ago, before I came back home and the mirror shattered… you remember what I was going to say to you?” Midna grinned slightly, attempting to ease the tension in the air.

            Link nodded. “You never finished your sentence. You called my name… but paused. Blurting out that you’d see me later, right as the mirror took you away from me.” The blonde looked away from Midna, sniffling a bit. “That hurt, Midna. You lied to me.” The frown on his face looked like a child – it made him look like a child.

            The Twili took her hand and brushed the boy’s hair from his face, and turning his chin to face her, then toyed at his ears. She held a motherly grin on her lips, a smile that showed her care for the Hylian resting on her. “I never got to finish that because I was scared – scared of how you would think of me since I would have to leave immediately afterwards.” Link raised a brow at Midna, and opened his mouth when the Twili hushed him, inching her face closer to his.

            “Link, do you know the feeling for when you _really_ care for somebody? You care for somebody with all your heart and soul?” She wrapped her hands around the blonde’s cheek, and he mumbled a quiet yes with shifty eyes. “Well, Link, I have that feeling for you. I have missed you so hard this past year. I have longed for you. I begged the goddesses for some way to see you again. And for many moons, I was left unanswered. But now you’re here, despite the state you’re in, and I have been thanking the goddesses plenty.”

            “Midna… are you saying…” the words tumbled from Link’s mouth, as he stuttered. His face flushed a bright red, a smile forming on his lips and tears welling up in his eyes. His whole body shook and trembled.

            The Twili’s face was less than a centimeter from making contact with the blonde’s. A slight smirk planted itself on her face, as she began to coy at Link’s empty hand with hers. “Yes, Link.” She giggled a slight bit before closing her eyes.

            “What I wanted to say that day,” Midna’s face crept closer and closer to the boy’s. “Was that I love you, Link. I love you so dearly.”

            And with those words, she clasped her lips with Link’s, obviously taking him off guard. He was stiff until he opened up, remaining awkward like a first-timer, though. He pulled his hand from Midna’s and wrapped it around her waist, refusing to let go. When the Twili pulled herself away, she was left with a puffy eyed blonde with tears down his face which held a wholehearted smile.

            “I-I’m so glad you feel the same way about me,” he quickly let out. The blonde leant into Midna’s shoulder as an overjoyed and crying mess. He hadn’t let go of her, he still held her in his hands. “I’m never letting you leave again,” he muffled the words into the woman’s shoulder.

            Midna grinned and ruffled his hair with her hand, and wrapped the other around him. “I won’t ever leave you again. I promise.”

            “Thank you, Midna.”

            Grinning, the Twili, pulled the blonde from her shoulder, and faced him in the eye. “And you will never be leaving my sight until I get you back to your normal self.”

            Link sat there, confused for a moment, but smiling the next, and nodding. Midna ran her hands along his shoulders – along the collar bones, the ribs, and the sunken in abdomen. She frowned, resulting in the blonde copying her expression.

            “I can’t believe this was all my doing,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Link.” Almost simultaneously, Midna pulled Link into her arms, embracing him and swaying gently from side to side, as if she were cradling a child. She never let him go, either. She let the boy glide into a rest on her shoulder, before she laid him down back in her bed.

            She wouldn’t let the guards find an extra room for him – no. She knew if she didn’t personally guard him, the Twili would kill him. And thus lead to the sharing of her room. Midna stood from her bed and watched the boy. The gentle rise and fall of his chest reassured her. She watched his face. Oh how peaceful he looked whilst asleep – she hadn’t seen that face in forever. When they had journeyed Hyrule, his expression only translated fear, anticipation, and heavy anxiety. What emotional burdens the goddesses could put on their hero, who was still growing intellectually, emotionally, and physically. She had always pitied Link, but over those many travels, she began to admire him.

            His bravery, strength, courage – everything about him. It hurt her leave, she never wanted to leave. But after Zant had come and gone, Midna knew she couldn’t risk it again. Yet, she had become unknown to what was happening to her beloved friend back in Hyrule. Learning of a light dweller, who seeked an audience with her, who was sent by Princess Zelda –she could only imagine what had gone wrong.

            Seeing Link again overjoyed her – she was ecstatic. But Zelda wouldn’t have risked putting the mirror back together if it hadn’t been for something important. Such a thing left Midna with questions – lots of them. What had gone terribly wrong in Hyrule? What did she have to send Link into her realm, while he was still sick as a dog? What hadn’t nobody informed her?

            Glancing back at Link, Midna figured that he may have some of the answers. He seemed to have gotten closer with Zelda during her absence. The Twili only shrugged her shoulder, hoping for the best for when Link would awaken. For the time being however, Midna changed from her royal robes and into a simple sleeping gown. She walked over to her bed, which was half occupied by the sleeping Hylian.

            Smiling, the Twili slipped herself into her bed, planting a small kiss on the boy’s shoulders before cuddling herself into a comfortable position, taking up the last of the room on the rather small bed. As she drifted away from the conscious world, her body subconsciously snuggled itself to the skinny boy beside her. And that night they dreamed, whilst unknowingly intertwined.

* * *

 

            _Link felt like he was floating – in which he was. His feet hovered only a few inches above the soil, booted in the finest leather. As he wandered up his legs and abdomen, he realized he was garbed in the green tunic of the Hero. He bore the gauntlets entrusted to him by the Hero’s Shade, the sheath to the Master Sword was strapped to his back, and the infamous hat was right on his head. Besides the old outfit of the Hero that he used to wear – his body was back to normal; his bones didn’t jut out likes rocks on a riverside. A thick layer of muscle protected his inners from the dangers of the outside. He felt alive for once – alive like he was still on a journey, fighting for the Goddesses._

_His smile grew wide as he flung his arms out and began to run about in the starry landscape, like he were Midna in her imp form. Link twirled in little circles, in pirouettes like ballerinas, until the scenery around him became something else. It was no longer a starry serenade and peaceful field. It turned to a rainy day in what appeared to be a lonely, yet elegant section of Hyrule. Maybe it was the Faron woods? Or near Zora’s Domain? Or the small overlook of the East Bridge from the Hyrule field? Link couldn’t put his tongue on it._

_But then he saw the hoard of people that he knew – people he knew far too well, all dressed in black, with the gentlemen carrying umbrellas over their women. And Princess Zelda… Eric was to her right, Impa to her left, each carrying a cover for her. Their faces looked pained, troubled – eyes were puffy and red, like they were crying. Zelda stood at the front of the neatly lined crowd and spoke with soft words. Link couldn’t make out as to what the words were, but he could tell from the scrunching of her brows and the quivering of her lips that her words were things we wished she didn’t have to say._

_But then Link noted something rather odd – he saw everybody he knew there except he. Rusl, Uli, Colin and Emma, Beth and her parents, Malo and Talo, their parents, Mayor Bo, Ilia and Fado, the Resistance, Telma, Eric, Impa, Renado, Agitha, and of course, Zelda. They were all there, every single one of them. But, where was he? Link didn’t see himself everywhere. He could only watch as the mass of people began to facilitate in a line behind Princess Zelda, each taking turns going up and saying a few words and leaving flowers. Curious, Link stood himself in the back of the line. He figured that nobody would recognize him – he only appeared to be a spirit in a dream._

_When he finally made his way to the front – the people in front of him were leaving in tears. He didn’t know why. Link saw Epona in the back with Zelda, a ring of flowers around her neck. He grinned – that told him that he was here, somewhere. And then the person in front of him stepped away, also in tears, and Link took an anticipating step forward. He only took a step forward to have his heart broken right then and there._

_An oblong hole in the ground with a wooden coffin and a hand engraved headstone, courtesy of Zelda, that was full of intricate detail. Link gulped, avoiding reading the name on the headstone, and went straight for the coffin. He wrapped a ghastly hand around the wooden lid and slowly lifted it. His stomach turned and churned at the sight – his dead, cold body was in the coffin. He looked worse than he was now. As of now, he was already emaciated and gaunt. The copy of him in the coffin looked far worse though – his skin almost gray, white patches of hair in splotches that was also falling out. Link wanted to touch the skin of his dead self, but it looked like it would crumble away if he did._

_The blond boy then looked at the headstone. In fine lettering was written, “Link Rinku: ‘The Hero of Twilight’, 19 years of life” and it made him sick. He was nineteen. Was he supposed to be dead? Or was this what would become of him if Zelda and Eric hadn’t forced him to go to Arbiter’s grounds with them, and then go to the Twilight Realm?_

_Although nobody could hear him, Link fell to his knees and sobbed. He didn’t want to die – no, not anymore, not yet. He had just returned to the love of his life, he couldn’t leave her already. He bit his lip as he allowed the rain to pelt him and hide the tears on his face. The scenery began to fade from him, though, and become the starry field once again. This time, he was greeted with a guest – somebody who was quiet familiar to him. He didn’t physically recognize him, but he could just feel that he already knew him._

_“We meet once again, my son.” The golden blonde man spoke, standing above him and offering a hand. He also was garbed in green, with the hat as well. The only difference between his tunic and Link’s, was the intricacy of Link’s – the small details sewn into the olive green fabric._

_“Hello,” Link mumbled, taking the hand of the man in front of him. “I know that we have met before, but who are you?” His face turned red, he felt too proud to say such a thing, but he needed to know._

_The older man chuckled and helped the smaller up to his feet. He placed his hands on his hips, his shoulders wide and broad – fitting his towering height. “I would have expected such words; you’ve only seen me as bones and armor… and as that golden wolf, too! You knew me as the Hero’s Shade? But I have an actual name and title, just like you.”_

_As the dots connected in Link’s head, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “You’re the one who tutored me all that time, everything that you taught me saved my life several times…”_

_The older nodded and grinned. “Yup! That’s me. Now, you are Link, the Hero of Twilight. I am Link, Hero of Time. I saved Hyrule many, many years before you even stepped foot in the world. And yet, you were the first of my descendants to be called to as the bearer of the Triforce of Courage since me… that was why I aided you. I wanted to teach my skills to somebody who could put them to use.”_

_Link gave a halfhearted grin. “Well I must thank you for that! But, for my time being here, what shall I call you? Since our names are identical.”_

_“Kokau.” He immediately spit out. “It means ‘of the Kokiri’.”_

_Link nodded, turning to the Hero of Time. “Okay so, Kokau, what was it that I just saw? This is just a dream, correct? That didn’t actually happen, and it’s not going to happen, right?”_

_Kokau nodded, turning towards the younger. “No worries, it was only a dream.” He placed a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “All I decided to show you tonight was what could have happened. That was almost you. But thanks to Zelda and Eric, you made it to your lover in time.” And with the words, Kokau smirked and winked._

_Link sighed in relief as he looked up at the taller. “That’s assuring.”_

_Kokau nodded, but his grin dropped and he stared at Link in the eye. “You still need a vast recovery, though. You look like a stalfos but with skin.” The golden blonde watched as the younger sneered, but continued to speak. “All I have to say is that you need to listen to Midna when she tells you do something, and by that I mean everything. Listen to everything she says.”_

_Link nodded, smirking in return towards Kokau._

_“Link, I’m serious. You could still end up like so if you don’t heal, gain some weight, pick up your training again.” The older spoke sternly with his words, his eyes fixed on Link with utmost seriousness. “I don’t want to have to attend your funeral, nor do I want to have to be the one to perform the ritual that allows you to stay in the sacred realm with the previous heroes. I will let you in when it’s your time – but I don’t want that time to be any sooner than it needs to be.”_

_Link turned to Kokau and said, “I will, sir.”_

_Kokau grinned at Link and opened his arms wide, to pull the boy in for a hug. “Just call me your grandpa, okay? I know there are a ton of greats attached onto that, but I couldn’t care.”_

_The dirty blonde gleamed and ran into the taller, wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his face into the older’s tunic. “I can’t thank you enough.”_

_Kokau grinned and wrapped his arms around the fading boy and spoke, “I do it out of love.”_

_And in the next moment the boy flashed from the Hero of Time’s arms, leaving him with tears in his eyes. Immediately, he dropped to his knees and faced the starry sky. “Farore, please grant him the life he needs to get back on his feet and living again. I don’t want him to join me here until he’s had a happy life – gotten married, had kids, and just enjoyed living. Allow him to live to a time to where he doesn’t have to carry a sword on his back at times. Give him the life to live to the age where he can just enjoy the birds in the forest and the blessings that you, Nayru and Din give. I just don’t want him to live with me, yet. Nor in the near future.”_

_“Please just let him live.”_

* * *

 

                        Midna watched as the blonde’s eyes began to flutter open. She had wrapped the boy in blankets during the night – he shivered violently, tightly gripping her many times to obtain heat, and then there was a small period where he had begun to cry in his sleep. Since that, Midna had been awake and watching Link as he slept. As the Sols began to shine a small bit of light through her windows, the Twili had prepared a small breakfast for the boy. She was prepared to heal him to his normal self. She wanted him to just feel normal again.

            “Good morning, sleepyhead!” The Twili grinned at Link as he sat up and stared at her blankly, yawning. It was discernable that he was still half asleep, shown by his foggy attention span.

            “I was expecting a ‘wolfy’ or ‘wolf-boy’, but sleepyhead works just fine,” Link chuckled, rubbing his eyes and slowly grinning at Midna. He noted that she had pulled a chair up to the bed and sat by him. He didn’t have a clue as to how long she had been sitting there, but he felt quiet safe with her watching over him.

            The Twili smirked back at the blonde in her bed, and giggled. “Eh, I’ll save those for later, when you’re better and I can properly tease you… eh he he!”

            The resonating pitch of her laugh was euphoric to Link; he widened his grin even more and laughed himself. Lost in his own euphoria, the blonde hadn’t noticed when Midna reached around to her nightstand, grabbed a small platter and placed it on his lap. The boy looked up at the Twili with raised brow and an inquisitive expression. On the platter was a bowl of seemingly hot soup, a type in which he had never seen before.

            “Eat up.” The woman crossed her arms and legs, smirking the boy. “I requested the doctors to concoct a soup that will give you what you need to grow strong again.” To her words, the blonde boy gave a faint grin to her. “So eat up, wolf boy.”

            Link snickered and shook his head. That was the Midna he knew. Slowly, he began to spoon the thick liquid into his mouth. It was bitter, and he couldn’t help making faces to it. The Twili laughed at him, but gestured for him to finish it. Groaning, Link began to dreadfully lift his spoon to his mouth, under the direct attention of the Twili.

            “You’re nineteen now, right? I think I remember right,” Midna said, propping her head up on her hands.

            Link nodded, dropping the spoon in the bowl and facing the woman. “My birthday’s on the day that you had shattered the mirror. I turned eighteen when you left, and I turned nineteen yesterday.”

            Midna’s mouth sprouted into a wide grin as the lightbulb went off in her head. “That’s right! How could I forget such a thing…” Her words trailed off into the nothingness of the room. “Damn. I’m year and a half older than you. Almost two. But I feel you’d prefer just a year and a half, heh.”

            Link smirked at her, she was right. Despite that she was older than him however, she acted much younger. He hadn’t suspected at all that she could be older than he. The idea had never come to his mind. “Just keep it at that.” He began to shovel another spoonful of the sour soup into his mouth.

            Shoving the empty bowl aside, Link sat crisscrossed and faced Midna. “So when can I go take a walk or something? To move somewhat before I get stiff.”

            The Twili’s already pale face turned a ghostly white as the words zoomed from her lips, “Never.”

            Link was taken back; inquisitively raising a brow, he raised his voice as well. “What do you mean ‘never’? I know I need to gain weight to actually physically improve, but if you’re going to coop me up I’m going to get fat. I don’t want to get fat.” He crossed his arms at her, giving a frustrated glare.

            The Twili placed her forehead in her hands and stared the blonde in the eye. “The other Twili… let’s just say that I may be the only one who doesn’t want to seek vengeance to the light dwellers. Everybody else seems to want to kill each one in their sight. The only reason the guards didn’t kill you is because the murder of a felon before a trial is punishable by torture.”

            Link’s mouth formed a small ‘oh’ as he hushed, sinking back away from the princess.

            “For now, I can clear the lowest level of the castle to allow you a large room to train yourself in your recovery.” Midna’s hands were folded in her lap, and she stared down into it. Her cheeks held a bit of a rosy complexion to them, like she was ashamed for the circumstances.

            “Well, if you’re doing it to protect me, I’m fine with that, Midna.” Links grinned at her with a cheesy attitude, making her smile and lift her head.

            “Thank you for understanding.”

            “I’ll always try to understand, Midna. Always.”

* * *

 

            The red head had paced along the sandy dirt at the mirror chamber since Link had gone through. Telma and Zelda had set up a tent for them, but only the two women were calm enough to sleep. Eric was worried sick. The sun was beginning to rise and the stars were falling from the sky. Zelda stood from her tent to find Eric still pacing.

            Slowly, she approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, resulting in him jolting in surprise. His freckled cheeks flushed pink as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “Oh, Zelda! How nice to see you? Such a beautiful morning, you must agree?”

            Zelda gave Eric a halfhearted grin, and said, “You need to sleep.”

            At instant, Eric flailed his arms in the direction of the mirror, stuttering and spitting. “But… what about Link! We must wait for him to return! I need to know if he’s safe!”

            Zelda chuckled. “He’s in Midna’s care now, Eric. He loves her. I’m one hundred percent sure that he is alright.”

            The red head opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it, crossing his arms. “I guess so.” He turned toward the tent and was about to enter when a frustrated Telma exited.

            “Zelda, do you want me to get the mead? I brought the strongest I got – surely it will knock him out, force him to get the sleep he needs,” the plump woman huffed, her arms crossed and a playful smirk on her face.

            Eric stared wide eyed at her, their faces only inches apart. Zelda called from behind, “I don’t believe that will be necessary, Telma. He’s going to rest right now.” And with that, Telma moved out of the way, allowing Eric into the tent.

            Telma strode up beside Zelda and stuck her chest out proudly, giving the princess a smirk. “So, how do you think Link’s doing?”

            The brunette shook her head, crossing her arms. “In all honestly, Telma, I am as scared as Eric. But, before we sent him over, I was able to sneak a spell onto him. I can tell whether he is alright or not whilst over in the Twilight.”

            Telma raised her brows at Zelda. “And?”

            “He seems to be doing just fine, for now. He’s having a lot of ups and downs. Nothing to serious. I just hope that he did find Midna, and that he is under her care.”

            The plump woman shrugged. “Well, if it’s Link that we’re dealing with – and if he is as passionate for her as he sounds, I’m sure he won’t stop at nothing to get to her.”


	14. The Father that Never Was

            After only a month of rehabilitation, Midna had already begun to spot the improvement in the young Hylian. He wasn’t as thin, nor was his skin as pale. He seemed to have more energy, wanted to do more things. Watching his growth pleased her, knowing that Link was recovering, getting better – even getting taller as well. He was still stubborn, though – especially when it came to taking the Twili medicines.

            The fiery haired woman had been roaming her castle the whole morning in search of her little Hylian. He was _purposely_ hiding from her, to avoid taking the bitter solution of a medicine. He needed it badly, yet refused to take the sour liquid. With a determined frown forced upon her lips, Midna strode down the hallway to check the only room she hadn’t searched in.

            Taking a breath, the Twili put her hand on the door and hoped for the best as she shoved it open. Alas, revealed to her eyes was the thin blonde boy sprawled on the floor, asleep. His head rested on top one of his hands, and his bangs stuck to his face with sweat, while the rest of his hair was in a tangled ponytail. A playful grin was on his face as small snores resonated from his throat.

            Midna noted that his voice had deepened since when she had first met him. When she found him, he was just a wolf. Once she saw him as his typical Hylian, she was quite shocked by his rather boyish voice and childish face. He was as tall as a boy before his growth spurt, but it appeared that he was finally getting that. His face was maturing, looking more like a man rather than a child. His voice deepened, and he sounded like an adult, now. It was obvious his growth had been stunted on his journey to save Hyrule, and in his emotional and physical roller coaster of the past year. But, now that things were coming back to normal, so was he.

            The Twili knelt down beside Link, placing her hand on his forehead and brushing away his bangs. She grinned at how peaceful he looked as he slept, she hadn’t seen him so relaxed – not when they journeyed over Hyrule, nor in the past month. Even though, he grew exhausted rather quickly – walking down the hall took his breath; she couldn’t even imagine how exertion he did that morning, running from her and the medicine he hated.

            Gently, Midna shook the blonde’s shoulder, cooing with soft mewls, “Link… Liiink, it’s time to get up. You have to take your meds, hun.”

            A comical smirk formed on his lips as the calm feeling evanesced from his face. Link groaned and rolled over, facing his body away from Midna’s. “I don’t want it. It’s gross.”

            The Twili sighed and rolled her eyes. She took one of the boy’s ears between her thumb and index finger, tugging lightly until an audible squeak popped from his lips. Link turned his head to face her, opening his eyes, and his face covered in a red haze. An abashed frown took its place on his face and he stared at Midna dead in the eye.

            Midna cupped her hands around Link’s cheeks, resulting in an even deeper blush, and giggled at him. “You don’t realize how much better you seem? You‘re not as thin; each and every day the amount of bones I see distended from your skin decreases. The amount of energy you have to do things, although it is little, each time I see you, you’re able to do more. Overall, you just seem happier. And you know what? This medicine is giving you the supplements you need to heal the way that you are.” She bent down to Link’s face, touching her nose against his. “Unless you _want_ to stay in the state you’re in, I suggest you take this medicine on your own before I force it down your throat.”

            Link’s eyes widened as Midna pulled her head up from his, sitting up simultaneously. At the moment, the Twili shoved a bottle of a purplish-black liquid into the blonde’s hands. Rolling his eyes, he snatched it up, tipping the bottle up at his lips and downing the liquid in a second. Almost instantly, the blonde’s face scrunched up and lips curled up into a scowl.

            “What is it with all these ‘healthy’ things tasting like metal?” Link questioned Midna, who was only giggling at the blonde. “It’s worse than the time in the lakebed temple, when I had a nosebleed and then you just nocked my head backwards and all the blood went in my mouth. That was really gross.”

            The Twili snickered, bumping the bottom of the blonde’s chin up. “You’re such a baby, can’t handle the taste of blood… despite that for half of the time we were together you were a wolf. A wolf that has to eat raw meat to survive. Raw meat has blood in it.

            Link grumbled and shook his head. “Shut up. It was either that or I starved for a week.”

            Midna chuckled, patting the boy’s head. Afterwards, she stood and reached her hands down for the boy to grab onto. “C’mon, let’s get you back up to my room.”

            Taking the Twili’s hand, Link frowned. “I’m always stuck in your room.” Easily, he was lifted off the floor by Midna, and he now stood by her side. “Can’t I go somewhere else? I swear I’ve memorized every detail of you room.” He cocked his head at the woman beside him, giving a smirk and raising a brow.

            “Fine,” Midna sighed, slinging one of Link’s arms over her shoulder. “Lean on me, and I’ll take you up to the balcony… and I guess I’ll show you my kingdom.”

            Instantly, the blonde’s face lit up as an eager grin grew across his cheeks. “Please, Midna.”

            Returning the smile, the Twili began to slowly lead Link to the stairwell. And, noting the rather horrified stare in his eyes, she picked him up on her back and carried him to the top. He had rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her neck. Midna enjoyed every moment that she felt his hot skin against hers, but she tried with all her might to hide it.

            Once the two had finally reached the top, Link slid off of Midna’s back and staggered right past her. He unevenly walked toward the railing at the edge, leaned on it, and gazed down at the kingdom below. The Twili walked all over in markets and villages, trading goods and having casual chit-chat. And then the wall of nothingness around the floating country, its dark blackness was mesmerizing.

            As Minda approached his side, Link whispered to himself; words inaudible to everybody but him. The Twili gave an unusual glance, but shrugged it off as nothing, and leaned on railing as well.

            “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Midna asked Link, turning to him with a slight grin.

            Lightly, he nodded. “Yeah, very… calming, if that’s how you would put it.” Link’s voice shook minimally, as if her were nervous.

            “Yes, it is.” The Twili giggled lightly, but her lighthearted tone was drowned out as she watched Link.

            His eyes wondered the streets below. But he eyed each and every young boy. He looked pained as he watched the infant walk for the first time, from mother to father. Cringed when he saw the young child out running errands with his father. Frowned when he saw the young teenager returning home from some work with his father. And when he saw the boy his age, introducing his father to his wife, he looked away and turned his back from the streets.

            “Link…,” Midna whispered, placing a hand on Link’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

            Quickly, out of the blue, his voice took a crescendo to a bitter and loud pitch.  “Does it _really_ look like it?” His brows were furrowed and his jaw clenched. He had swung his hand in the air, brushing off Midna’s hand.

            The Twili was taken back, and she slightly withdrew back from Link. To which he noticed, and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Midna. I didn’t mean to lash out.”

            Nodding, Midna wrapped her hands around the boy’s shoulders. “It’s alright. But, if I may ask, what happened to _your_ father? I know your mother passed when you were very young, but you’ve never mentioned your father before.”

            The Twili watched as the blonde’s face dropped and turned an icy pale – this was the touchy subject. But, in retaliation to the sickly look, Link clenched his jaw and fists, sparking flames in his eyes.

            “That asshole left before I was even born. I grew up never knowing what people meant by ‘a father’s love for his son’ all because of him. I grew up empty because of him.” Link stamped his foot, releasing a huff as his stared down off the palace. “I hope I never have to see that bastard again.”

* * *

 

            Ilia watched from her garden as a rather familiar middle-aged man began to strut through the village. Unfortunately, she was the only one outside, and the man spotted her like a sore thumb. Quickly, he strode to the fencing over her garden, and rested his elbows on the railing. He was rather tall, had striking blonde hair. Yet, his face, it seemed so familiar. His eyes were the same blue, the aqua blue, which Link had. And the way his jaw was structured, it was all too familiar to her friend’s. In all irony, too, he had a scabbard around his back.

            “Sir, can I help you at all?” Ilia asked. “Are you a traveler, or are you looking for somebody?”

            The man rolled his eyes. “I’m looking for a woman named Annamarie. She’s kinda short, curly brown hair.”

            Ilia didn’t recognize the name, nor the description of the woman he was looking for. “I don’t recall such a woman in Ordon, but I may not know everybody here. I can go fetch my father, Mayor Bo, if you would like.”

            “Please.”

            The girl quickly turned to enter her household, before asking one last question, “Sir, may I get a name? To inform my father of your visit?”

            The man perked his chin up, frowned slightly, and then opened his mouth to speak. “The name’s Kile.”

            Ilia nodded, and continued to go up the stairs, and into her father’s home. She was greeted with a wave from her father, who was sprawled about on the couch reading a book.

            “Dad,” she whispered. “There’s a man outside looking for a woman named Annamarie. He said his name was Kile.”

            The brunette girl watch as the color dropped from her father’s face. Quickly, he stood and made his way to the door, Ilia quick on his heel. Once she had closed the door behind them, she watched as her father approached the man, a scowl forming on his face.

            “It’s been twenty years, Kile,” Bo grumbled, glaring into the blonde man’s eyes.

            The man known as Kile gave a sarcastic laugh. “I thought it was nineteen.”

            “That’s how old your son is,” Bo hissed, scrunching his nose up and crossing his arms.

            Inside Ilia’s mind, the light bulb went off. The similarities all made sense now. She understood who the man was now.

            The blonde raised a brow, to act as if he were surprised. “Oh, the brat’s still alive? I was hoping he’d die of illness or something.”

            Bo took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, letting of a bit of steam before daring to speak again. “No, Kile. Your son grew up strong and healthy, and he has done quite remarkable things.”

            “Yadda yadda yadda, I don’t care about him.” The man mocked Bo, moving his hand as if it were speaking. “Where’s Annamarie?”

            “Dead.”

            “What do you mean, dead?” Kile gave an annoyed glare. “She can’t be dead.”

            Giving an exasperated sigh, the mayor began to speak, once again. “She caught the illness that plagued the town. It killed her.”

            Kile cursed and stamped his foot. “Damn. Well, where’s my son? I supposed I could meet him.”

            Bo shook his head. “Can’t. He’s in Hyrule.”

            “How?”

            “Well your son, Link, is the noble Hero of Twilight. He saved Hyrule from the dark days we had for a year. He is an honored knight.”

            Kile grit his teeth and clenched his fists. “That goddesses damned _curse_ – that’s why I didn’t want kids.” His hands were thrown up in the air in his fit, and then crossed around his chest while his lips pursed.

            “Then you shouldn’t have done it with Annamarie, then.” Bo gave a haughty laugh.

            Kile gathered himself and turned to walk from Bo, but face the man, jabbing his index finger in his chest. “Fuck you, I loved her.” And then he swiftly began to leave the town, and, presumably, on his way to Hyrule. He had a lopsided gait to his walk, like he had a permanent injury of some sort.

            Ilia turned to face her father, his face tight and fists balled up. His eyes sparked flames that she had never seen before in him – yes, she had seen them in Link’s eyes, but never in her father’s. She approached him, rested her hand on his shoulder. “Father, do you wish for me to fetch Rusl?”

            The mayor glanced at his daughter, shaking his head. “Yes, tell him the bastard’s back and going for the kill.” At instant, the girl’s eyes widened, believing her father was serious. Taking a sigh, the old man grinned. “Ilia, it’s just code that Rusl ‘n I use, there’s no need to worry about Link.”

            Taking a gulp, Ilia nodded, breaking away from her father and turning to the small dirt road. She began to walk the path until it led to the familiar shack by the stream. A woman sat on the porch, a toddler in her arms.

            “G’ afternoon, Uli!” Ilia grinned at the woman, waving. “How’s Emma doing?”

            The woman bounced the toddler on her knee. “Ah, she’s doing a’ight. A bit more of a crier than Colin was, but is definitely as sweet as him.” She grinned at Ilia. “So, is there anything I can do for you?”

            “I came for Rusl… Bo requested sent me ‘ere with a message,” Ilia replied.

            Uli nudged over her shoulder. “He’s inside. Go right in.”

            Nodding her head, Ilia bowed slightly. “Th-thank you.”

            Walking up to the door, the girl grabbed the handle and pushed it open, exposing the small household. Rusl sat at the table, a slab of wood in his calloused hands as he carved away at it. He hadn’t noticed her enter until she had stamped her foot whilst closing the door. She admired the various handmade weapons that lined the walls of his humble home. It was obvious that he was part of the Resistance.

            Looking up from his work, the man smiled, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Good afternoon, Ilia. How are you?” Rusl asked, returning to his work at the same time.

            Hesitantly, Ilia walked over to the table, taking a seat across from the blonde man. “Quite well, thank you.”

            Glancing up from his carvings, he gently spoke, “So, what brings you ‘ere?”

            Trying to hide the uneasy form her face was trying to mold to, Ilia turned her head away, acting as if she were noticing the small details in the scabbard across the room. “My father sent me with a message. And I quote him, ‘the bastard’s back and going for the kill’. That was all he told me to tell you, no explanations were given. If you have any ques–“

            “Dear Nayru,” the man interrupted, shoving his face in his hands. “You sure he said _exactly_ that?” Ilia nodded. Simultaneously, Rusl stood from his seat and buckled a scabbard and sword around his back. “This isn’t good. I must go immediately. The boy’s in danger. Or possibly, at least.”

            Ilia’s eyes widened and her jaw hung. “Who?”

            “Link,” Rusl whispered softly, the stern look in his eyes matched his grave tone. “The man, the bastard – his brat of a father. If this guy finds Link, then the boy’s sanity is already in a bad enough state and that man will just make it worse.”

            As the man was about to rush out the door, Ilia grabbed his shoulder, making him face her. “What do you _mean_ that Link’s sanity is at stake? I was told that after Zelda healed him up, she named him one of her noble warriors.”

            “No… Ilia, I’m sorry. Zelda healed him _physically_ , but he’s out of wack.” Rusl took his hand to the back of his head, avoiding looking into the glare that burned into his skull. “When I went into Hyrule almost half a year ago… the boy was practically dead – just had awoken from a coma. He tried to die, Ilia. He _wanted_ to die, and he _tried_ to.”

            The color drained from Ilia’s face as her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t resist the strange shapes that were becoming of her face. She had been lied to about her friend, and she was upset – upset that she was held from the truth, and upset and scared for Link. Rusl began to reach his arms around the young girl, resting her face at his shoulder.

            “He’s gettin’ better, though,” Rusl whispered in her ear, as calm as possible. “Zelda is taking care of him well. He’s made a friend. And, from what Zelda told me, he’s finally going back to the girl he’s in love with.”

            Ilia cringed. She was happy for him, happy that he had found a girl that he loved. She had thought she was that girl, those two years ago before this whole mess started. But then he met her. She was jealous, but happy for him at the same time. And she couldn’t control him on it either.

            “W-well,” Ilia sniffled, her voice shaking. “That’s good to know.” She gave a fake smile to Rusl. The man patted her back and led her out the door, closing it behind him.

            Uli looked over at her husband, noting the scabbard and sword on his back. “Where are you going now?”

            Rusl turned his head to the woman, a solemn purse to his lips. “Link’s father came into town, and I must retrieve the man before he makes even more a mess of his son.”

            The woman’s eyes widened, and she nodded. She waved her hand off, gesturing for him to go. Rusl grinned, leant down and planted a kiss on her cheek before embarking off and out of the village. Ilia still stood on the porch beside Uli, one of her hands rubbing her arm.

            “You don’t look so well, Ilia. What happened?”

            The girl faced the floor. “I was lied to. And Link could be in danger.” Ilia crossed her arms and slammed her eyes shut. “I am hurt and I am scared.”

* * *

 

            Zelda sat at her desk, writing letters to the princes that wished to court her. Eric sat in the chair in front of her, watching her delicate writing stain the page with beauty. Otherwise, his eyes wandered the room. It had been a month since Link had gone to the Twilight Realm; and Zelda wasn’t sure if she could handle Eric’s anxiety over him any longer.

            He always paced her room. Paced the hall. Paced the room Link had stayed in. In matter fact, he had gone through the boy’s belongings and cleaned them, eventually returning them to their respective places. It was obvious to Zelda that the red head liked the Hero far more than a friend. Anymore, the mention of his name brought a red hue to the guard’s face.

            “Eric,” Zelda whispered. “What’s on your mind?”

            Almost immediately, the red head clammed up and turned a rosy pink. “N-nothing.” He didn’t even dare to look Zelda in the eye.

            Resting her pen on the desk, the princess bent over and inched her face closer to Eric’s. “Liar.” Eric’s eyes widened to Zelda’s words. “There has got to be something on your mind, and it’s about Link. It’s obvious.”

            Eric stammered, spewing out incoherent blabber that had no meaning. After several failed attempts of defending himself, his face turned a dark crimson. He hung his head and mumbled, “Yes.”

            Leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, Zelda smirked. “Eric, I can assure you, he’s with Midna and is _just_ fine. Hell, I’d bet they’d be doing each other by now.”

            Eric’s lips expressed a disgusted emotion, and he shook his head to rid himself of the image. “Link isn’t like that.”

            “But Midna is.” Zelda perked her brow.         

            Eric rolled his eyes, and leant his head back and stared at the ceiling. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk about… I didn’t want to imagine my friend getting it done with his girlfriend.”

            The princess shook her head and snickered. “Ah, neither did I.” She took a pause, catching the man’s attention. “But we all know you liked him.”

            In the moment, Eric practically went ballistic, losing his balance while leaning back in the chair, knocking it over, making a sound that resembled a shriek. Zelda stood and looked over her desk, grinning at the mess on the floor. His face was hot and eyes wide.

            “Oh, Eric. You make it so obvious.”

            The red head frowned and stood, brushing off his clothing. “Shut up.”

            “Sure.” Zelda rolled her eyes, sitting, and picking up her pen and continuing to write.

            Picking up the chair and setting it on its feet, Eric seated himself in front of Zelda’s desk again, crossing his legs and folding his hands. He gazed out the open windows at the falling sun, the source of the streaking amber light that entered the castle. “How do you think Impa’s holding up?”

            The princess picked her head up and looked at Eric in the eye, actually being serious. “I think she’s fine. She prefers to be in solitude, anyways.”

            Eric nodded, glancing away. “Do you think Link will come back?”

            Zelda shrugged. “I’m sure of it, eventually. He can’t stay there for too long – there are people here that he still loves and cares for.” Eric hummed in agreement. “Like _you_.” She giggled as the guard’s face burned another shade of red.

            “But I’m being serious. There are people here that he can’t just leave without saying a goodbye. And he wouldn’t stay there forever. He’d lose his mind in the pitch black nothingness that surrounds the floating isle.” The princess returned to her writing, denying each request that was sent to her.

            Eric stood from his seat and turned to face the door. As he began walking, he waved his hand in the air. “Goodnight, Zelda.”

            “Eric.” He paused, turning his head to face Zelda one final time. “Eh… never mind. I’ll ask you soon enough. But, can you tell the guards to send out extras tonight… something in the air is giving me a bad chill and my Triforce is burning. Either the Goddesses are telling me something or I have a strange fever. And, I’d rather be safe than sorry.” She rubbed the back of her hand. “Well, goodnight Eric!”

            The red head grinned and bowed his head, exiting Zelda’s chambers.  He strode down the hall, past Link’s former room, and down the staircase. He entered the guard’s lounge and spoke with the head castle guard, informing of the princess’ orders. Once they were received, Eric sighed and retreated back up the stairs. But, instead of heading down to his room, he entered Link’s.

            He grabbed a cigar from his pocket and lit it, sitting on the boy’s bed. He stared in the mirror and grinned. The last time he was here was helping the boy get from his room to the carriage. That was the day when Link went to the Twilight realm. But in the mirror, he saw his reflection, and beside him was the image of the deathly skinny Link. But, instead of holding a frown to his lips, a warm and genuine smile was there instead.

            Eric heard remnants of the boy’s laugh fluttering in head. The confirmed sound of his still beating heart rung in his head. That one night, it was horrifying. The goddesses had been giving them the signs the whole time, but none of them were able to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. He felt at fault though. If only he had gone after him, he may have not been panicking at two in the morning, searching alleyways, for him.

            But the past was the past, and his friend was finally happy again.

            “Goddesses, I miss you.”

            He blew out a puff of smoke from his cigar, and took one of the boy’s shirts. It was the worn tan garment that had streaks of blood and dirt on it. This was the shirt he wore in Ordon. It was obvious, tainted by the smell of goats. And his sweat. Sighing, Eric took the shirt and buried his face in it, taking in the musky odor that built up in the threads. He laid back on the bed, his head still buried, and curled up into a ball, occasionally taking a puff of smoke.

            The night drew quickly as the red head was pulled into slumber, relaxed by the nicotine running in his bloodstream and the boy’s scent that he was enveloped in.


	15. Home

            Eric’s eyes moved slightly as the rays of sun flew through the window and illuminated his face. Scrunching his nose up, he lifted himself to sit upright, placing his hand over his mouth as he yawned. He slightly grinned at the old shirt he had been wrapped up in, took it in his hand and folded it, and placed it with the rest of Link’s belongings. Taking a sigh, he exited the room and turning to head to his own quarters. He noted that the castle rounds weren’t being kept. The typical two men were supposed to survey the insides just about now, and it wasn’t happening.

            Groaning, the red head shook his head, continuing to stride to his room. Once he arrived, he gathered the day’s garments: the chainmail tunic and the fabric with the Hylian crest embroidered onto it. Today he wasn’t going to hibernate in Zelda’s study all day, he decided it was best if he tried to forget, tried to stop mourning, and move on and return to his duties. He had figured it would be the best for him, and he knew that he didn’t want to head down the route that Link had for that year.

            Once Eric had refreshed himself and dressed in uniform, he buckled his thin sword to around his waist and left his room, the door hanging wide open. As he made his way down the hall, descending the staircase, the red head kept his eyes on the floor, never bothering to look up. At the bottom of the stairs, he peered down at the guards’ lounge – the door wide open, castle guards eating their rations in such a lackadaisical manner. Eric sneered and stormed right past the room, exiting the castle to make his rounds.

            As soon as he stepped from the large wooden doors, a single person caught his eye. The man, from what he could see, was shorter than he, but seemed extremely familiar. Forthwith, Eric lunged from his feet, running down the courtyard to the gates where the man stood outside, seeming to be admiring the scenery. It took the man a second to catch on to the sounds of the leather boots beating against the stone, and that they were heading for him.

            As the man turned his head, his face grew to an enormous size as two arms tightly wrapped around him, picking him off his feet. Eric’s face was flushed in red, and mixed with a smile.

            “Oh goddesses, Link!” the red head exclaimed, “I’m so glad you’re back!” Feeling the man squirm in his arms, he dropped him to the ground and loosened his grip.

            When the shorter regained his balance back on his face, he promptly turned about-face and glared at Eric the eyes. “Who the hell are _you_?” His lip snarled up in a wicked curl, exposing his tainted teeth. The man’s fists pulsed in balls as he held back his enmity toward the guard. “My name is _not_ Link, nor shall it ever be. Now, tell me who you are.

            Eric took a step back, eyes widening and sweat forming along his brows. He frantically looked around as he felt the burning stare char into his skin. “I… uh, I-I’m Eric, sir,” the red head stuttered, cheeks turning red. “I am one of the royal guards that serve Princess Zelda.” As his eyes wandered over the man’s frame, he remarked how much resemblance the man had to Link – the blonde hair, height, ears, eyes, and body type. The man was practically an older, grouchier, version of Link.

            Nodding, the man, stuck out a hand. “Name’s Kile.” Eric shyly took the man’s hand and shook it. Sighing, Kile turned his head up toward the red head. “So, you mentioned a boy named Link… could you tell me about him?”

            Eric raised his brows, cocking his head at the man. He was betwixt and between the idea of telling the stranger the truth, or to just give the vague explanation of the Hero. To be safe, he stuck with the latter. “Link is the Hero of Twilight. He came from Ordon and went on a journey to rid Hyrule of the Twilight. Quite remarkable, I would say.”

            “What does he look like?”

            Slowly turning his eyes to look at the ground underneath his feet, the red head whispered, “Like you, sir.”

            Glancing away from Eric, Kile prodded his chin with his thumb, mumbling to himself. The silence went on for minute, before the man turned his attention back to the red head. “I request you take me to him.”

            Giving an unsettled gaze to the blonde man, Eric sighed, placing his hand on his forehead. “Sir, I do not know you. Nor does Link. Why should I take you to him?”

            “I’m his father.”

            Eric stood motionless, his mouth dry and words unformed in his throat. The lakes in his eyes were as wide as a full moon, and his jaw hung open. The uncanny resemblance between the two was all making sense; the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Staring into the eyes of the blonde, Eric slowly closed his jaw, reforming his composure and returning to his professional appearance. “I-I can see what I can do. Would you like to wait in the castle for the time being?”

            Kile shrugged, and followed Eric as he turned and began toward the castle doors. On the red head’s tail, the blonde entered right behind him. As Eric began to climb the stairs, he turned his head back toward Kile, motioning his hand to tell him to follow. The man nodded and slowly escalated the stairs, noting the artwork that lined the walls. At the top of the staircase, the two treaded down the hallway. Eric spotted the familiar room and slowed his steps until he stood in front of the doorway, Kile to his right.

            “I must speak to somebody before you can see him.” The red head’s voice was quiet and his eyes met with the floor. He didn’t have the nerve to look into the man’s eyes and lie. “Please rest in here for the moment, sir.” Eric grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and pulling the door open.

            Kile nodded. “Thank you.” Taking Eric’s gesture, he walked into the room, sitting himself on the edge of the bed while his door was closed. He had recognized the rather despondent emotion that had returned the red head when he had revealed that he wasn’t who Eric thought he was. Shaking his head and releasing a sigh, Kile espied the worn cloth that was folded on the dresser, along with a small pile of clothes. Beside the clothes was a small belt and bag. Interested, Kile stood and approached the dresser, picking up the small leather pouch in his hand.

            Returning to his seat at the edge of the bed, he unbuckled the pouch, opening it to reveal its contents. Inside was a pair of gloves, threadbare and dirtied; a small shard of stone tied shut in a cloth. Brushing against the cloth that blanketed the stone, Kile felt the dark energy emanate from the stone. At instant, he pulled his hand out of the bag, and proceeded to dump the contents across the sheets, to avoid touching the malevolent stone by accident.

            Sorting through the items that lay before him, he noticed a small piece of paper folded up inside one of the gloves. Curiously, Kile pulled the slip from its retreat and unfolded it. In a messy form of Hylian, rather an antiqued version, were the words, _I’m sorry I broke our promise, Link._

Like a bodiless hand, the paper was immediately strewn to the floor, eyes widening and breathing growing heavy. Kile couldn’t believe what he had ready. Was this Link’s room? He had hoped not. He didn’t want to seem like an intruder. But, the more he thought about Eric’s first reaction to his presence, he could assume that something was going on with Link, keeping him from being here.

            The pondering of his mind was halted when he heard the click of the doorknob, instantly, he tidied the mess he made and composed himself, sitting upright. It was Eric that opened the door, a rather apprehensive frown on his face.

            “Kile, if you could come with me, please,” the red head mumbled, staring at the floor.

            The older man nodded and stood, making his way out of the room. He followed Eric down the corridor carpeted with red fabric. It seemed to be a winding labyrinth, but the red head knew it so well, he could most likely do it in his sleep. Occasionally, Eric glanced over his shoulder to keep an eye on Kile, making sure he hadn’t strayed off to some foreign wing of the castle.

            After a few minutes of a walk, there they stood, in front of the doors to Zelda’s study. To the right and left of the doors stood two stout guards, and as they eyed Eric they woke from their upright slumber. “Captain Eric, go right ahead sir!” The guards removed their spears from in between the red head and the study.

            The red head smirked at the young guard, and since he had notoriously gotten after him for his disrespect towards Eric a few months ago, the boy had shaped up nicely. Gladly, Eric reached his hand out and pulled at the handle on the large pair of doors, pulling it open, giving a Kile an intimation to enter. The man nodded his head and advanced through the doorway, the red head closing the door behind them.

            A woman sat at a desk, a feather in hand, writing furiously at the paper on the table. Glimpses of her pendant and crown were visible underneath her pitch black cloak. Although it was overt that she knew the duo stood at the front of her study, the woman either was waiting for a greeting, or was just ignoring them.

            “Princess Zelda, I have brought him.” Eric got down on one knee and bowed his head as he spoke.

            “Oh, Eric. You know I don’t want you treating me with such formality,” the woman chuckled, reaching her hands up to pull the cloak from her head. As the blackness was removed, Zelda revealed her face; unveiling her chestnut locks that cascaded down her back in a loose braid, her piercing blue eyes, and her earnest grin. “Ah, a guest. What is your name, sir?”

            Kile’s face turned red and he began to clam up. “Y-your majesty, my name is Kile.”

            Zelda cocked her head just slightly, and showed off her white teeth. “Kile, simple but nice.” She paused, gesturing the two sat at the chairs before her desk. “So, I hear you are seeking knowledge of Hyrule’s young hero?”

            Taking a seat, the older man rolled his eyes, pointing a thumb over at Eric. “I was told by freckle-face that I would be able to see my son, who is apparently the recent Hero. All I want to do is see him.” As his sentence came to a halt, he saw out of the corner of his eye the red head put his head in his hands as the princess sighed.

            “Well, Kile, that is not possible at the current time,” Zelda whispered, her voice taking a decrescendo until it was almost inaudible.

            Scrunching up his nose, Kile gave an evident frown at made his chagrin toward the situation explicit and raw to the air. “Why can’t I? What makes it so that I can’t see my son?”

            Zelda clenched her jaw and balled her fists. “Well first,” her words escaped, tainted with bitter apathy. “Your son isn’t even here. We cannot reach him where he is at currently. He is away in another _realm_.” The princess released a heavy sigh, one that was audible, as she folded her hands across her desktop. “Second, I do not trust you. At all. I wouldn’t allow you to see Link, even if he were here.”

            “What makes _me_ seem so untrustworthy?” Kile asked with a sarcastic flair, glaring at Zelda in the eye, and folding his arms across his chest.

            Standing from her chair, Zelda strode over to the window, looking down the courtyard of knight trainees. She didn’t bother to look back at the man questioning her with such an atrocious tone. “What you did to him.”

            “Hell, I’ve never even met the boy,” the man hissed under his breath, standing from his chair, only to be stopped by Eric’s hand that stuck itself across his chest.

            But just then, Zelda whipped her head around and gave Kile a dagger like stare, a stare that stabbed him and unable to get back up. She began to take loud and heavy strides toward him as her expression turned dark and eyes icy. She prodded her index finger into the man’s chest as she leaned her head dangerously close to his. “That’s the whole point. You _left_ his mother with an unborn child. You gave him life, but left him there without a father. He didn’t know how nice it would have been to have _both_ parents until he had _none._ You left him a bastard; finding out about him, picking up and leaving… because you’re a _coward_. You wished he didn’t live, eh? Wished he had never made it in the world, so you wouldn’t be in the situation that you’re in right now, am I correct?”

            The man’s eyes widened, exposing the two pits of darkness in his eyes. His face was hot and infuriation flushed through his veins. Kile flexed his fingers, trying to control his anger. “I didn’t want him to have the curse.”

            Zelda’s glare fixated on Kile’s pitch black pupils. “Oh, the goddess damned curse, placed on my family _and_ yours since the defeat of Demise back in the Era of the Sky? You leaving didn’t prevent it. Nothing would have prevented it. It’s fate. I had to deal with it no matter what. So did your son.” The princess took her head back a few centimeters from the man’s face as she folded her arms across her chest. “I cannot believe _you_ , of all people, are a descendent of the Hero of Time. It is obvious that Link is. But you? Oh no, the thought would have never come to my mind.”

            Kile let out an indignant huff as he took step forward, his jaw tight and clenched. “I didn’t want to see him _suffer._ ”

            “Well he still suffered without _you._ His mother, your lover, Annamarie, died him when he was almost four. Thank Nayru that Rusl was kind enough to look over him. That man was the closest father figure in his life – you, you’re the farthest from that position.” Zelda’s voice rose in intensity as her level of resentment grew in sync. She was now shouting, compared to her subtle tone at the beginning of the conversation. “That boy, he was left parentless before he was five, and you think he didn’t _suffer_? That curse took him out of the toxic emptiness of his home and gave him a friend – a friend that is now more than a friend, and he loves her, she loves him. That curse made him wear thin, but he is standing strong – and for _once_ in his life, he is not alone.” Her words carried a glacial chill through the air. Zelda swung on the balls of her feet and stood back against the window, looking back down at the courtyard, which was now empty.

            “Fine,” Kile sarcastically groaned. “I am a coward. I am a failure of a father. I never have known my son and thus I do not love him. What says I can’t change?”

            Not even turning her head back to the man, Zelda spoke in a monotone and reticent manner, “I’m afraid Link may not want to think of you as his father. Knowing that you deliberately left because of his life, it is almost certain that a plethora of animosity has built up in his heart – in the place where he could have had love for you.”

            The princess’ words left Kile speechless and white. Immediately he fell back into the chair, bent forward, and rested his head in his hands. While Eric stood awkwardly, facing the princess, who stood so formally by the window, and occasionally glanced down at the man. He heard faint mumbled and murmurs, but none of which he could find comprehendible. In ways he felt bad for Kile – knowing he may never make right what he did wrong. But, his anger for the man stood much higher than his sympathy. After hearing all that he did, Eric couldn’t help but want to slap him across the face.

            This man was part of the reason for the mess that became of Link. Kile was the background torture in Link’s head that was firewood, and Midna’s leaving was the ignition for the flame that almost destroyed him.

* * *

 

            Link grumbled and stretched his arms as his eyes adjusted to the morning darkness. The sheets to his left were empty and cold – Midna had already gotten up. He heard her getting ready for the day in the side room, freshening herself up. Slowly, the blonde sat himself up in bed, rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles. Although, his eyes were still heavy and he continued to yawn frequently. The chilled air of the early hours began to wake him as it clashed against his skin, which hungered for the warmth it needed and he wanted.

            As Link began to shiver and clatter his teeth together, Midna stepped out from the washroom. The robes which she wore to council meetings rested gently on her skin, and they flowed so freely as she walked. The Twili grinned when she saw the Hylian had finally awoken.

            “G’morning, Wolf-boy.” Midna smirked, a sense of drollery in her words. “How’re you feeling?”

            Link shook his head at the woman, an impish grin on his lips. “Are you ever going to stop calling me Wolf-boy?”

            “Nope!”

            The blonde’s face flushed a faint pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well then, I’m feeling just fine.” Turning his attention back to the Twili who foraged through the pile of documents on her desk, he asked, “I’m assuming you have a council meeting today?”

            Midna nodded, keeping her eyes on the papers as she skimmed through the titles, looking for the correct one. “Yup. I’ll most likely be gone all day. My parents are going through the final steps of handing over their power to me.”

            “Do they know about me?” Link asked, marginally tilting his head to the side.

            The Twili halted in her tracks, her face growing ever so pale. “No.” She took a deep breath, preparing to speak again. “They will _eventually_ , though. Since they are handing their power over to me, I cannot be titled queen unless I have a suitor.” Midna turned her head over to Link and winked, giggling at the same time.

            The blonde’s eyes widened as his mouth formed a little ‘o’, cheeks turning a roseate shade. As Midna pulled the desired paper from her pile, Link removed himself from the bed and grabbed a loose shirt and pants that were lent to him from one of Midna’s council members.

            “I’ll probably be in the basement training, if you’re wondering where I’ll be.” Link mumbled as he began to remove his nightshirt, he felt Midna’s eyes burn into the back of his skin as he exposed more and more of it.

            “You don’t look as thin,” she said with upmost sincerity. “That’s good.”

            Link shrugged, quickly changing his pants. “I guess. I’m still not like I used to be.” He took a paused and laughed, buckling his belt at the same time. “I would probably feel dead riding Epona for not even five minutes.”

            “Same goes for your training,” Midna added. She walked over to the blonde and pecked at his cheek, causing them to grow hot. “Don’t overexert yourself while I’m gone. Remember to take breaks and drink your water.”

            “I know, I know.” Link hushed the Twili. “You don’t need to be my mother, Midna.”

            The Twili shrugged as she approached the door, ready to head out. “You still act like you’re five in some occasions.” And with her words, she exited the room and closed the door behind her.

            Link grinned as he led himself to the washroom. Grabbing an old rag, he doused it with chilled water, and took it to his face. The icy nip bit at his skin, taking the final steps to fully awaken him from the previous night’s slumber. Taking the rag from his face, Link grabbed a dry towel from his right, and wiped his face clean of any loose droplets of water. Then, he took the damp strands of hair that hung in his face, and twisted them, forcing the trapped water to be expelled. Lastly, he reached around his back and divided his hair into three sections, following by braiding them together.

            Looking up into the grimy mirror, he grinned at himself, trying to be, at the least, pleased with himself. Taking a sigh, he grabbed the towel and slung it over his shoulder as he returned to the main room. He took the shoes left for him, slipped them on, and began to knot the laces tightly. Finally all put together, Link stood and headed towards the door. As he exited, closing the door behind him, he looked down both ways of the corridor, and then turned to the right.

            The whole day seemed to be going well, quite relaxing, actually. All until he turned the corner. Leaning up against the wall with crossed arms and a vexed face was one of the Twili guards, waiting for him.

            Slightly skittish, Link halfheartedly smiled at the guard. “Excuse me sir, may I get by?”

            He was only returned with a snitch frown and cock of a head. “Like I would let _you_ , light dweller?”

            The blonde looked anxious to the right and left, fumbling with his thumbs. “Well, Princess Midna has given me access to the basement, for training.”

            The guard snorted, giving a sly smirk. “Always need your princess to defend you, eh?” The Twili took a heaving step towards Link causing the boy to cower imperceptibly. “Well, your princess isn’t here right now. And you know what I think? I don’t think you should even be _in the presence of Midna!_ ” The guard kneed the blonde in the stomach, causing him to double over. “Actually, you shouldn’t even be _here!_ ” His fist impacted Link’s head with a harsh blow, sending him crashing against the wall, then to the floor.

            Link lay motionless on the floor for a minute; the pounding in his head was too much. He felt like getting sick. The skin on his face was red and forming a small lump; his lip was cracked and bleeding. He ached all over. The guard’s comments had sparked his pride, however. He needed to learn to fend for himself. The despite the idiocy of the idea, Link shakily began to heave himself – knees trembling as he brought his balled hands up to guard his face, he stood in a stance that showed he was ready to fight. His jaw was clenched, and lips snarled up at the corners of his mouth; eyes burning with venom.

            The Twili acrimoniously leered at Link, taking the implication of his stance and the swinging his fist at the boy. Surprising to the guard, the blonde had blocked it with his forearm. In much spite, though, Link clutched the arm that had endured the blow and hissed against its pain. Sheepishly, the blonde put the arm back up, the guard giving a haughty laugh at the boy.

            “Why don’t you just surrender now?” The guard swung another fist at Link, but again, it was blocked. “Put up the white flag now, weakling? You’re no match for me.” The Twili sneered, his voice resonated a bitter chill.

            Link shook his head and snorted, returning his gaze with the guard, the confidence in his eyes doubled. “Like I ever would,” he snorted sarcastically.

            As the bashes and belts came again and again, Link was able to duck and dodge them, like a vigorous ballad played in his head and he was moving with its rhythm. The blonde took a few swings, but nonetheless, they affected the guard’s focus sparsely. As the Twili’s actions slowed, the Hylian kept socking him with quick and effortless hits – the most they could do is give a bruise. 

The boy began to take initiative of the guard’s respite in his actions, lowering his defense to take a heavy swing at the Twili, in hopes of doing some damage. The Twili, however, kicked under Link’s feet, knocking him face first to the floor, and kicked the side of his head and chest. The blonde clutched his chest as he curled up into a ball on the floor. His forehead bled with no end, and he had felt the crack in his rib.

            The guard bent down on one knee, grabbing at Link’s hair to hold his face up to face him. “Now, I suggest you get your worthless, light dwelling, ass out of here before I end up breaking your _neck_ ,” the guard spit between his teeth.

            Staring back lifelessly, Link nodded, slowly taking to his feet and sprinting toward the exit, a hobble in his strides. Nimbly, he exited the castle, still clutching his side. His fading thoughts scanned the surrounding city. Everybody here except Midna wanted him dead – he couldn’t just go strolling through the town without attracting some cold blooded riot. Sighing, Link fled towards the rural area of the kingdom. He had remembered from the night before, seeing a lonely little lake – he presumed it would be safe to stay there. And stay there he shall.

            Sauntering very slowly, Link had trekked across a few miles to get to his destination. Hurt and exhausted, he collapsed underneath a tree adjacent to the cold water. He stared at the water beside him, reaching out a hand, dipped it in, and pulled it back to dab at his head. Pulling his hand away, Link saw the blood that had dried begin to trickle down his fingers with the water.

            “Goddesses damn it,” the blonde whispered, a stringent tone to his voice. Sitting himself up, he leant up against the trunk of the tree, listening to the cracking of his back as he moved. He rested his forehead in his hand and closed his eyes, not wanting to give up and cry. “It’s either that I want myself dead, or everybody else around me does.”

            Sighing, Link lowered himself on to his back, stretching across the grass as he closed his eyes and watched as the faint lightness turned to everlasting blackness. As the night grew cold and lonely, Link curled himself up into a small ball, burying his head in his hands. Small whimpers and mewls of sadness echoed in the surrounding silence. Midna, still stuck in the lengthy council meeting, had no idea of the merciless events that happened underneath the roof of her own home.

            “I just want a place to feel at home.”

 


	16. What would I do without you, wolf boy?

Midna reached up behind her head, untying her hair as she strode right into her room, oblivious to the fact that Link was nowhere to be seen. She slipped off her robes, changing into more comfortable attire. When she turned to climb into her bed, the empty sheets alerted her. Forthwith, she whipped her head around to face the washroom – empty. In her sudden nervous trepidation, her head urged her to search the basement, to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself. In instant, Midna put her shoes back on her feet, and darted out the door.

Racing past the guards, she practically sprinted down the spiral of stairs that lead to the lowest floor. At the bottom of the stairwell, the Twili slowed her pace and caught her breath – the door to the training room was wide open, and somebody was working in there by candlelight. Midna smiled, presuming the person working was Link. Her hopes were crushed as she approached, seeing the black and white Twili markings on the man’s skin.

Taking heavy traipses into the room, crossing her arms, Midna spoke, “Where’s Link?”

The other Twili shrugged his shoulders, sitting up from the bench press. He acerbically said, “I don’t know. He ran out of here a few hours ago crying like the coward he is.” It was discernable by the man’s attitude that he had done something to the boy.

As soon as Midna saw through the man’s mask, she used her magic and shoved him up against the wall, her arm at his throat while she gave him a searing glower. “I could condemn you to the asylum we call the nothingness unless you tell me what you did to Link. If you tell me, I can spare you the torture and just vaporize you. Either way, it’s hell for you.”

The guard laughed imperiously, giving the princess a smirk. “Oh, you wouldn’t do that to me, Midna. We’ve known each other since primary school – you wouldn’t have the guts to do such a thing.”

Infuriated, Midna applied more pressure on the man’s neck with her forearm, making him sputter and choke. Her lips turned to a snarl, like a growling wolf’s. “Just you _watch_ me, you bastard. You have no idea what I had to do in our times of need, you ignorant fool.” In her free hand, she sparked a wisp of the dark magic she had mastered, threatening the man.

Widening his eyes, the Twili under Midna’s hold raised his arms. “I hurt him.”

“How?”

“Why do you need to know specifically, isn’t all in the same category?” The man’s eyes flickered back and forth, back and forth, giving away his reticent strategy.

“Listen up fucker; I am not letting you go until you tell me. You hurt Link – and I need to know how,” Midna hissed at the man, spit landing on his face as he felt like cowering under her intimidation.

“I… I uh… I kneed him in the gut; hit him across the head, twice; kicked his chest.” The man said, the power in his voice diminishing.

Midna huffed, scrunching up her nose as she frowned. “I hate you so much.” She turned her head away from the guard, removing her arm, allowing him to drop to the floor. “Where did Link run to?”

The man shook his head. “I honestly have no clue. All I know is that he left the castle.”

The princess nodded, beginning to walk towards the door of the room. “Ah, thank you. I must search for him then.”

Baffled, the man cocked his head. “So you’re sparing me my life?”

Midna chuckled, a maniacal sense to her laugh. “I never said that, my fine sir.” And with a snap of her fingers, the man vaporized into thin air. He was gone. The princess smirked, continuing to exit the room.

Distressed, the princess hurried back to her room. As she strode throughout the halls, her mind raced with the endless possibilities for what Link’s situation would be. Above all, she felt _guilty_. Link had escaped to the Twilight realm to find her, to find peace and get better. But all that did was get him stuck in a rut with all the Twili that didn’t approve of him. All he wanted to do was escape from it all, but it backfired. Midna felt at fault for it, too.

Shaking her head, she entered her room, gathering an extra pair of clothes for Link, a few bandages, and a blanket. Swiftly, Midna also changed her apparel to something warm before venturing back out. Once she exited the palace, the blast of bleak air hit her in the face, sending a shiver down her spine. Folding her arms, she went onward to the main road. Debating between the areas where Link could have gone, the city or the rural fields, she chose the latter. Midna knew that Link knew better than to walk into a void of people that hated his existence; such an outrage would create pandemonium amongst her citizens.

As the princess walked along the path, she couldn’t help but feel empty. The sky was empty – but it always was. There were no stars, like existed in the light realm. She always enjoyed that about his world; there was so much beauty in it, in every crease and corner. The Twilight realm had its own pretty spots, but the light realm was gorgeous all over. From the stars, as Link called them, in the sky, to the worms in the earth – each thing in his world held such delicacy to it. In ways, she missed the place, and she was sure that by now, Link did too.

Her train of thought was halted, though, by the vague sound of snoring. Being pulled into a delighted grin, Midna raced over to the small noises, to which she found the Hylian sprawled out on the grass beside a tree. With his eyes closed, his arms still clutched his side; even in his sleep, he was still pained.

Taking a sigh, Midna reached her arms underneath the blonde’s arms, sat him up, and dragged him over to the tree, propping him up on the trunk. Slowly, she lifted his shirt up, glancing over his abdomen – no wounds, but plenty of bruising. Raising a brow, she mulled over what could be causing pain. But then Link readjusted slightly, and then she heard the pop from his chest – it was a broken rib. Subsequently, the blonde’s eyes shot open as he took a deep breath – at first he hadn’t noticed Midna at his side.

When his pupils accommodated to the dark landscape, Link immediately recognized the figure of the illuminated person in front of him. His character lightened up, although still reeled with pain.

“Midna?” The blonde whispered, raucous and raspy. His voice spurred Midna’s attention from his bruising abdomen to his grisly face. Once the duo’s gazes met, Link glanced down at his chest and back. “Could you make a brace with your bandages there? My rib’s really killing me.”

Altruistically, Midna dipped her head, unravelling the ball of bandage by her side. Slowly, she circled the fabric around Link’s chest, encompassing the area that the blonde had indicated as the broken rib. With each cry of pain that stemmed from Link’s voice, Minda shrunk down and winced. She felt guilty that she had been causing him pain, but she knew that it was for the best of him.

As Midna fastened the bandage around Link’s chest, she exhaled, pulling down the blonde’s shirt, creating a blockade between his skin and the frigid night air. Her attention was then enticed to the open wounds along his head: a cracked lip, black eye, and a long cut along his hairline. Knitting her brows, Midna grabbed an end of her robe, ripping off a square of the fabric and soaking it in the small pond beside them. She then pressed the sodden cloth up against Link’s forehead, dabbing away at the dried blood, getting a better look at the actual wound.

Retracting the cloth from the boy’s head, Midna’s eyes were laden with repentance. “Link, I’m sorry for all of this.” The blonde tilted his chin, giving a censurable yet innocuous cue. The Twili heeded the Hylian's concern, but brushed it off as she lifted her head and riveted his eyes. “I don’t want any more to happen to you. As of now, you are living in a realm of those who hate you and your kind for events in the past. They hate me, too, since I am allowing you a stay. I think it is best if _both_ of us go back to Zelda.”

On the spot, Link began to beam jocundly, the color in his lips returning while his cheeks flooded with a red mantle. It was all too obvious that he really wanted to get out of the Twilight realm. Midna did, too, to be honest. The boy reached around her, nestling his arms around her back, holding his body against hers. The Twili caught her breath, simpering down at the blonde. She returned the pull against her body, gliding her hands up and down Link's back and resting her chin atop his head.

            Drawing a breath, Link divulged a relaxed murmur, “Thank you, Midna.” The Twili pecked the top of his head, provoking the crimsoning of the blonde's cheeks. “I made a friend I want you to meet. He... he saved my life. I wouldn't _be_ here if he weren't for him.” Link pulled away from the Twili, a rather lamenting look in his eye.

            Midna smiled down at Link, in bid to raise his spirits. “Well, you really have a true friend there. He must have worried about you for weeks. He must _really_ care for you, if he saved you.” She noted the blonde's strained expression buoy up. “What's his name?” she asked, disquisitively.

            Giving a light grin, Link said, “Eric. Eric Koriku.”

            Being gracious, Minda smiled. “Well, how about we go, so you can introduce me to him.” Pushing herself up to her feet, the Twili held out a hand to Link. His mood illumed, and he took her hand in his aid.

            On his feet, the blonde leant up against Midna, clutching his injured side while his face twisted in many directions. Prudent to Link’s condition, the Twili halted him and took one hand across his shoulders, the other under the backs of his knees. Tenderly, she lifted the blonde from his feet and clutched him close to her. In response, Link curled up in her arms and sighed.

            “Y’know,” he mumbled, voice shaking in accompany with his shivers. “I’m sorry for causing all these problems. If I hadn’t started his mess in the first place, I wouldn’t have made all those problems with the other Twili.” Link couldn’t manage to look up at Midna. His remorseful point of view had returned, and it wouldn’t budge.

            The Twili smirked and shrugged, her gaze flowing with fervent concern. “Well, if none of that happened, I may have never seen you again.” Turning her vision skyward, to the horizon, she cordially exhaled. “I yearned for you, too, Link. You weren’t alone, coveting me, missing me. I wished to see you as well. And, now we’re here.” With the blonde’s rising mood, Midna raised the tips of her lips into a smile. “You have nothing in the palace, right?”

            Link glanced up at the Twili, wide-eyed and confused. “No.”

            Giving an affirmed nod, Midna whispered, “Good.” No other words. She wanted to leave the Hylian to guess for himself. Link, however, only stared up at the Twili, one brow raised and gaping mouth. When Midna didn’t continue to speak, he rolled his eyes, leaning more into the Twili’s chest as she carried him.

            Not even a few minutes later, the Twili watched as the blonde’s eyes began to close and he drifted off into a light slumber. As his breathing slowed, Midna held him just a bit tighter, pressing him against her chest. The feeling of his chest rising and falling assured her that he was alright.

            Slowing her pace, Midna came to a standstill; her eyes wandering over the luminous portal, patterned with the markings of her people and a triforce in the center. Not wishing to rouse Link from his nap, the Twili looked to her left and right, inquiring for a place for the two of them could rest. Not far off in the distance, a rather thick tree stood out as a possible shelter. Eagerly, she strode over to the shrub.

            Leery, she lowered herself to the ground, Link still in her arms, and leant up against the bark of the tree. Gently placing him on the ground, she reclined him up against her and wrapped her arms around him, tender to his injury. Nonchalantly, the Twili’s hands gradually made their up to the blonde’s shoulders. Turning him slightly, to face his face towards hers, Midna had a glooming sorrow on her face, and she relieved with an exhale of hot air.

            “I just wish you were happy, Link.” Her gaze lowered to the many scars that faulted his skin. “You have been able to do so much, much more than I ever could have. Yeah, I wanted to save my kingdom, but unlike you, I didn’t have the bravery _or_ the strength to do such a thing. I made up for my emptiness with my harsh attitude. I thought maybe that would seem more intimidating, heh, it only made you fall in love with me, though, didn’t it?” She chuckled under her breath, striving to stay as silent as possible; she put her hand out and swept blood caked bags from Link’s face. “I didn’t mean to cause all of this. I only wanted the best for both of our realms.”

            “I missed you, too. It was obvious to Zelda that you missed me. I, however, couldn’t condemn my worries to my council – I would be thrown from power if I did such a thing about a Hylian. They are obdurate stones.” The Twili’s eyes grazed down to the soil. “I missed you. I missed your smile, your laugh. I missed your corny jokes, that dumb farmer’s accent of yours, your need to be _happy_. I missed the way you held me when I was cold, the times when you let me steer Epona, that look you always give me, Wolf-boy.” Tracing her arms around to Link’s back, Midna began to pull him up to her, and slung her head on his shoulder as she soundly embraced him. “I missed you so much, Link. I just love you… so much.” Just as she was about to close her eyes, she felt cold hands wrap around her back, and she sharply took a breath.

            “I love you, too, Midna,” a throaty voice whispered in Midna’s ear. Gently, the blonde pressed his lips against her cheek, and then rested his head on her shoulder.

            The Twili’s hands made their way to Link’s hair, running her fingers through it. “Did you hear all of that?”

            “Mhm,” the deep tone resonated from his throat. Due to his position, Midna couldn’t see the beaming grin across his cheeks, or the flushed red tint to his face. Link allowed himself to compose again before making himself visible to the Twili again. “So, are we going to Hyrule?” He stretched his arms and yawned.

            Midna rolled her eyes and smirked. “Well, now that you’re _awake_ we can,” she snorted, causing Link to blush. Standing to her feet, she reached her arms down for Link. The blonde took the Twili’s hand and pulled himself up, wincing. Leaning up against Midna, the Twili wrapped her around his shoulders and tugged him closer. As the two approached the Mirror of Twilight, Midna looked down at Link and whispered, “Let’s go home now, shall we?”

* * *

 

            The arrow flew through the air, catching a Gerudo hog in the chest, inducing its death as it fell right to its side. The archer had a smirk on her face as she slipped her bow about her shoulder, simultaneously striking away her platinum strand of hair. With careful steps, Impa approached her kill, pulling the arrow from its chest cavity, wiping off its blood, and shoving it back in her quiver. Her now empty arms wrapped around the hog’s torso, and she lifted it from the ground, and then took it back to her small camp.

            She had requested of Zelda to send one of the Hyrulean soldiers to stay with her, for backup. The man sat by the small camp, pursuing to make the fire to cook the meat – he wasn’t in typical uniform. The chainmail was too much of a burden in the scorching heat of the desert. Instead, Impa had been gracious enough to brace the man’s joints like was done in her own tribe, and taught him some of the art of fighting and maneuvering. Surely, he wasn’t as nearly as good as Impa, but he could defend himself without his sword and shield if needed.

            “How’s that fire going?” The woman smirked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

            The soldier grumbled, and continued to spin the two sticks faster. “Just _great_.”

            Impa chuckled and placed the fresh kill on a clean cloth, preparing to butcher it for the meat. She pulled out one of her knives – clean and free of bodily remnants – and began to skin the animal, tearing the skin from muscle. Next, she began to cut slabs of meat off the pig’s chest, legs, back, and piled them respectively.

            Glancing over at the soldier, she groaned. He still hadn’t gotten a fire started – if he didn’t have it soon, they wouldn’t have dinner at all. If they had a fire a night, the chance of getting raided by the leftovers of Ganondorf’s minions would greatly multiply. Impa didn’t want to risk it, so she stood to her feet and returned to the guard’s side.

            Tapping at his shoulder, she glared down at him. When he returned the look, Impa raised her brows and sneered, “Go cut the pig – I’ll get the fire.”

            Releasing an exasperated moan, the guard got to his feet and went to the pig. Taking the knife in hand, he began to cut at the small strands still attached to bone. Impa pulled one of her daggers out and sharped the ends of the sticks, making them abrasive and more biddable to a spark.

            As soon as she began to swivel the two twigs together, a bright light blinded her. As soon as it dimmed enough for her to look without burning out her eyes, her mouth flung open. The Mirror of Twilight was glowing, it was _activated_ – somebody was coming over from the other side. Rapidly, Impa turned to the soldier, who stood next to the hog, flabbergasted and confused.

            Short and spirited, Impa glared at him and the eye and spoke, “I’m going to call on the goddesses to send you back to the castle and inform Zelda of this. Please tell her she needs to be here immediately – tell her to use her magic to bring her, Eric, and whomever else she feels necessary. I must stay behind, in case this _isn’t_ Link or Princess Midna.”

            Somewhat tense, the soldier nodded, and tightly shut his eyes as the Sheikah murmured a prayer to the goddesses, asking of their assistance. In almost a split second after she quick speaking, the soldier was taken up in a vortex, and disappeared into the sky.

            Once he was gone, Impa turned back to the portal, staring at the glowing marks of the Twili. She had known that it took longer to activate from the Twilight Realm – so whoever was awakening it wouldn’t be here for some time. As a precaution, the Sheikah pulled two of her daggers, gripping them in her hands until her knuckles turned white.

* * *

 

            Eric sat beside the middle-aged blonde man, a grimace on his face and crossed arms while watching him. He had been flustered with the man’s argument since it began yesterday. Of course, though, Zelda assigned him to watch the man. He wasn’t pleased with the chore, but it was his duty, and he had to do it.

            Rolling his eyes, he glowered at Kile, who sat, awkwardly staring at the ground. The grass underneath their feet was dry, and the bench had its creaks. But the man wasn’t paying attention to small details – he was just staring blankly. It was obvious by the hazy glaze over his eyes.

            “So where were you the whole twenty years?” Eric asked with a bitter tone. Although he was genuinely pissed at the man – he was curious as to how he had avoided his son for twenty years.

            “Termina.” That was it. No other words.

            “Where in the bloody hell is that?” The red head retorted with a snobby tone.

            Kile turned his face away from Eric. “Far away.”

            “How far?”

            “Far.”

            “Where?”

            “Past Snowpeak.”

            “Where past Snowpeak?”

            “My fucking _goddesses_ leave me alone.”

            Eric raised his brows at the man, as if he were serious. “Excuse me? Are you using the goddesses’ titles in vain?”

            “Yes.” Kile rolled his eyes, his voice becoming icier with each word.

            Crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the bench, Eric asked, “Why?”

            “They cursed my son.”

             Eric snorted. “Well, _actually_ , according to texts from the Era of the Sky, Demise was the one that cursed both the Chosen Hero, and the mortal reincarnation of Hylia. All descendants of those two are cursed. And your family is one of them.”

            Kile huffed. “I _know._ But the goddesses could’ve done something _about it_. But no, they watch as these boys – _boys_. They’re not even adults and they have to face this shit!” The man’s face was getting red and hot as he became livid. “Of all the heroes on record; the Chosen Hero was sixteen, Hero of Time was chosen at _nine_ , but was sent to a seven year sleep to mature his body.” The man crossed his hands over his knees. “And then there was _my_ son, seventeen. Bet he’s ‘effed up now.”

            Eric grit his teeth, suppressing his urge to punch Kile right in the face. “We haven’t even told you what happened to him.”

            As the blonde was about to speak, he stopped, turning his head to Eric. “What do you mean ‘what happened’?”

            Eric faced the ground, resting his head in his hands, and sighing. “Lots of things.” Glancing over at Kile, he noted the faint concern on his face. “To sum it up, after saving Hyrule…. Link got really sick.” Taking a gulp, the read head closed his eyes. “He tried to kill himself; we saved him just in the nick of time.”

            Kile dipped his head, turning away from Eric. “So is that where he’s been this whole time? _Dead?_ ‘Cause nothing’s really adding up in my head and the story seems fishy.”

            As the read head opened his mouth to respond with some half-assed remark, he was interrupted by a vortex dropping one of the newbie guards on the ground, face first. Eric cringed stood, nearing the soldier. He offered a hand, and the soldier took it. Heaving the man up, he gave the man an inquisitive look. “Impa sent you here?”

            Vigorously, he nodded.

            “What’s happening?” Eric crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

            “Th-the portal, sir,” the young guard stammered. “It’s activating.”

            With those words, the red head’s eyes flung open. “Stay here with that man,” he pointed to Kile as he spoke. “I’ve got to retrieve Zelda.”

            The young soldier nodded as Eric sprinted right past him and into the castle. Escalating the spiraling stairs – he didn’t once lose his breath, surprisingly. Although, when he reached the top, he doubled over in a coughing fit. He could only blame it on the cigars he smoked recently. Once his lungs had caught up with the needs of his legs, he continued to sprint down the hall, Zelda’s study at the end. His body burned. His head hurt. Yet, Eric pushed through.

            He hadn’t bothered to request permission of Zelda’s guards to enter the study – besides, they were asleep anyways. Quietly, Eric pushed the door open and entered the room where, as typical, he saw Zelda behind her desk. She looked at him with distraught eyes and a quivering lip. The red head’s expression softened to hers and became rather sorrowful.

            Eric approached her desk, and took her hand between his, lowering to her eye level. “Zelda? Is everything alright?”

            Retracting her hand from his, Zelda shot her head away, refusing to look at him. “Yes, all is well.” She acted like the red head didn’t notice when she dried her tears with her sleeve before turning her head back to his. “So what did you come for?”

            Taking a breath, he tried to clear his face of his severe concern for Zelda. “Impa sent the soldier here – the Mirror is awakening.”

            Zelda’s eyes shot wide open and she pushed herself from her desk, striding right by Eric and out her door. When his mind found its place in what just happened, the red head scurried to catch up to the princess. As they exited the castle, both the heads of Kile and the young soldier turned to face them.

            “Kile,” Zelda hissed. “Come here.” She glared at the man, enough to make him turn and awkward shade of red. Uneasily, the man stood and came to Zelda. “You’re coming with us, you got it? Good.” Turning to the solider, she dismissed him to head in the castle.

            As the doors shut, Zelda closed her eyes and bowed her head, pressing her hands together. She began to whisper unknown words – most likely of an ancient form of Hylian – and a spark of a purple-ish flame rose from her fingertips and began to encircle the trio. It was a lavender shade, yet possessed the qualities of a flame. Zelda continued her spell, and at the end, she yelled and shot her eyes open, causing Eric and Kile to jump.

            At that moment the flame erupted all around them, yet they were not burnt. They just floated in this strange flame. But then it began to die down, revealing a whole new setting. They were at the Mirror chamber, and Impa stood there, daggers in head, ready to attack if needed. Once the Sheikah recognized Zelda’s face, she lowered her weapons towards them and returned to the Mirror.

            As soon as the flame died to nothing, Zelda turned pale and began to fall backwards, Eric caught her, though, just under her arms. Slowly, he sat himself down on the sand, resting Zelda in his lap. He knew it was the spell that drained her. Kile paid no attention to them and approached the Sheikah.

            “What is this?” The blonde crossed his arms and grumbled at Impa.

            “The Mirror of Twilight.” The Sheikah nodded, turning her head to Kile, her gaze ran up and down his height. “And who are you?”

            “Kile. I am Link’s father.”

            Impa rolled her eyes and groaned, “Asshat.”

            The blonde stomped his foot and turned away from the Sheikah. Just as he did, the Mirror shone blazingly – like the Sun. Eric turned his back to the mirror, shielding Zelda from its white light. Both Impa and Kile shot their arms up in front of their eyes while the shining lasted. As the light dimmed down, two vague shadowy figures began to exit. One was much taller than the shorter, which leant on the taller.

            Impa tightened her grip on her daggers, wary of the uncertain. Kile watched her with shaky eyes, before the woman turned to him, a frustrated grin on her lips. “We do not know the identities of them. If it is Link and Midna, we will not harm them. If it is any other Twili, they must be killed – they are merciless towards us light dwellers.”


	17. Oh, how I really hate you

            Kile attended to watching Impa’s hand – her white knuckles encasing the small dagger, teeth clenched and brows scrunched. The woman’s stance portrayed her anticipation to fight, adrenaline pulsing through her veins and fear striking her mind. The man could only see her feelings heighten as the light began to dim. Two silhouettes were revealed – one feminine figure much taller than the masculine shaped frame.

            Eric lifted his head, keeping an eye on the two figures. Zelda had begun to lift her head, recovering from the drain of her magic. She, too, paid close attention to the unknown portraits that approached them from the mirror. Slowly, she rested her hand on Eric, silently asking for help up. Almost immediately, he helped the princess stand, granting her to lean on him until her head defogged.

            All four pairs of eyes watched as the smaller shadow stumbled, the taller reacting by holding the other up. Zelda’s eyes widened and she began to stand tall, inching away from Eric. “It’s Link and Midna,” she mumbled, just audible to Eric.

            Raising one brow, the red head glanced down at the princess. “You’re positive?” However, he was quickly shut up by the calling of his name by a mundane voice. At instant, a smile flourished on his cheeks.

            As Eric began to take a step forward, he glimpsed back at Zelda, for approval to approach the two. Shyly, she nodded, making the red head glimmer in elation as he vanished from Zelda’s side. He hurried himself past Kile and Impa, generating a nasty scowl from the older man. Eric wasn’t bothered and continued to close the distance between he and Link.

            The blonde who was leant up against the Twili held a grin that was spaciously spread across his flushed cheeks. Midna stared down at him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, as he bounced a hyperactive toddler. She assumed the man approaching them was Link’s friend, Eric. She had no other conclusion as to why he would be so happy.

            “Eric?” The Twili asked, a smirk playing on her lips. The only response she received was the rapid nodding of his head before the blonde stepped away from her.

            Link and the red head collided in a sloppy hug, the taller man’s arms compassing the smaller and holding tightly. Midna watched as the blonde buried his head into the red head’s chest, smiling like a maniac. The two’s brother-like treatment just assured the Twili that this was Link’s close friend. She felt no fear as she watched them share the moment.

            The fading light from the mirror was gradually unveiling the faces of those standing before them. In the distance, she saw princess Zelda. Up in the foreground stood a Sheikah, and another man – a Hylian who looked similar to Link. Midna flickered her eyes between Link and the man, a farfetched idea coming to mind. Quickly, she shook it off, as if it never had been thought of.

            As Eric and Link broke away from each other, the blonde turned about-face to the Twili. “Midna,” he spoke with soft, charmed words. “This is Eric. He’s a good friend of mine.” Turning his face to Eric, he said, “Eric, this is Midna. She’s my… my…”

            “Girlfriend.” The Twili smirked, exposing her white teeth from underneath lavender lips and periwinkle skin. Midna was pleased when the blonde shot his face to stare at her, his face glowing and a simper withheld in his lips.

            Link raised a brow and laughed, “Yeah, I guess so!” The red head beside him patted his shoulder with a heavy hand; the blonde looked right by him, however, and stared at the man beside the Sheikah. “Who’s that?”

            Taking a step away from Link, Eric grinned sheepishly, chuckling questionably, gliding his hand along the nape of his neck. “Eh... heh, you’ll figure it out later.”

            Crossing his arms, Link frowned at the taller, bitterly groaning, “Why can’t I know now?”

            “Because.”

            “Because _why_?”

            Eric rolled his eyes turned away from the blonde. “Because I said so.”

            Link released an exasperated sigh, pursing his lips and scrunching his brows. Cracking a knuckle, he prepared to step up to Eric until a chilled hand rested on his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine. Peering back, his eyes met with Midna’ – her red irises making his pride cower until it was almost nonexistent.

            “Don’t get too proud,” she insinuated, a sprightly resonance given off.

            Her words hit home. Link knew he was getting to be too proud. Hell, he just got angry at his friend for something he would find out sooner or later – he got angry for something stupid. Gallingly, the blonde shook his head and sighed. The Twili behind him smirked and pulled away once she was aware that he found his fault in action.

            From the corner of his eye, however, he noted the way Eric gestured and cued the Sheikah and older man to approach. The platinum haired woman nodded, grabbed the older man’s wrist, and dragged them up to the podium where they stood. Link scrutinized the older man. He seemed far too familiar to him. His face – he recognized it from somewhere. Where, though, he wouldn’t have known.

`           His dirty blonde hair hung in his face in matted bangs, the rest of his hair tied back with a small braid. His eyes were a piercing blue – a pale, icy color that gave chills to those who dared to look into them. And his pupils, they were dark – from Link’s view, they looked like bottomless pits in his eyes.

            The man’s face though. His jaw squared, and covered with faint amounts of stubble. His skin was tanned and wrinkled, showing his age with the crow’s feet around his eyes. The man’s ears were long, like Link’s, proving that he had Hylian blood in him. The man also didn’t have a tall stature like Eric, but rather he was only an inch or two taller than Link. His body had the same build, too, besides the fact that Link hadn’t regained all that he had been yet.

            Before the blonde realized it, both the Sheikah and the man stood before him. The man looked down at Link, his arms tucked to his sides, and a scowl oscillating on his lips. Link looked over the man, up and down, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and gave an abhorred sneer up at him, raising a brow subsequently.

            The older man rolled his eyes, releasing a hot mouthful of air in a perceptible format. “Well, that’s a nice way of greeting me, son,” the man grumbled the sibilance from his lips.

            The words halted Link in his tracks, Midna’s eyes widened, and Eric couldn’t stand it look at the boy, and so he turned his face from the inevitable fracas that was about to blossom in the chamber.

            Link stared wide eyed at the man’s feet, hands by his sides in fists, trembling as he growled, “Who the fuck are you?” The words barely escaped from between his teeth. It was all too clear the blonde was trying to suppress his urge just to slap the man in the face. Even Zelda, who stood from a distance, noticed Link’s subdued frustration.

            “Well, if you would listen, dumbass, I called you my son. So, logically, that would mean I’m your father.” Kile crossed his arms, tapping his foot while giving off an askew frown and apathetic moods.

            Link’s eyes widened, but he didn’t look up at the man. He was boiling over with hatred – a mixture of emotions. He wanted vengeance for his mother’s death – if his father hadn’t had left, his mother wouldn’t have had to been the Ordon nurse. She wouldn’t have had to take care of sickly Seth. She wouldn’t have gotten sick. And ultimately, she wouldn’t have died. And the whole root of the problem was the man before him.

            Oh how he wanted to take his fist to the man’s face, break a jaw, knock out a few teeth. But he couldn’t; Link couldn’t get the nerve to lift his fist and do such a thing. Sure he had killed tons of monsters and beasts, shed their blood and his, but, not with his fists. And never had it been another human, heck, it had never been some man claiming to be his father.

            And then the idea sprung to him. His mother’s name; Annamarie. Among Hylians, it was a rather uncommon name. The only person Link knew with the name was dead – his mother. If this so called father of his was the real deal, he would at least have known her name. He hoped. Link knew that it wasn’t some drunken night where they hooked up – he had known her for some time before they settled in Ordon. Surely, his real father would remember her name.

            Lifting his head to face the claiming father, Link glared him in the eye. “What was my mother’s name?”

            The man snorted, rolling his eyes and sarcastically grinning. “Annamarie Wellen. That was her surname; Wellen.” Taking a breath, he poked Link in the forehead with his index finger, amusing himself with the boy’s flustered reaction. “Now, _your_ last name is mine, since you’re _my_ son. You want to know what my last name is, Mr. Hero?”

            “Don’t fucking call me that,” Link grumbled shooting a glare.

            “I’m pretty sure my last name isn’t ‘don’t-fucking-call-me-that’, but oh well.” The man patted the top of Link’s head as if he were a toddler, and quick enough, the blonde swatted away the man’s hand.

            “I’m not dumb.”

            “Well, then you would have known that your last name is Rinku, and so is mine.” The man smirked. “Kile Rinku. That’s me. Father of the Hero of Twilight, Link Rinku. Now come and give me a hug.” Kile stretched his arms out, a hint of sarcastic parental care of his voice.

            “Why in Ganon’s name would I do that?” Link spat, swinging his arms to his sides, releasing his hands from their balled up fists. “You left as soon as you learned of me! What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t even born yet you decided I was nuisance and you just picked up and left! Now, oh now, you come and act like mister good guy and come back in my life. Well, you know what Kile? You’re nineteen years _late._ ”

            The older man retracted his arms. “You want to try me, boy? I wouldn’t suggest it.”

            Link clenched his teeth, brought his fists up to cover his face, and began to bounce on the tips of his toes. “Hell, I saved Hyrule from Ganondorf – you’re nothing, old man.” The blonde was allowing his pride to enter back into his heart – circling bravery and stupidity around his blood stream. Worried, Zelda rushed over to Midna as the Twili reached out her hand to Link. Before her cold skin met with his, he turned his head back to her. “I know you don’t want me to fight, but his is personal matters.”

            With that, he whipped his head back around to Kile, and began to encircle his way around the man, ignoring the pulsing pain from his rib and the aching the flooded his muscles. Before the older man could even strategize a move, Link jammed his knee into Kile’s crotch, causing him to double over and moan. In the next second, he took his elbow and wacked it into the man’s head, sending him to the dusty ground.

            Dropping to his knees, Link raised his left fist in the air, wincing, and dropped it with full force on the man’s chest, a loud pop satisfying his blow. He continued with weakening hits, small punches that would only result in bruises. Both Zelda and Midna watched as the tears in Link’s eyes began to flow down his cheeks, leaving a trail of cleaner skin against his dirt caked face.

            As the boy lightly dropped his fist on Kile, who lay on the ground, panting, and clutching his abdomen, he yelled repeatedly, “I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so much. I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate you. Why did you do this to me? I hate you. I fucking hate you.” His voice cracked with his final words, all of them decreasing in volume as he went on.

            Link sat there on his knees, head pounding, breathing heavy, as he stared down at Kile. The tears were still running down his face. “I told you, old man, you’re no match for me.” He bent his head down, holding himself up with his hands. Midna wanted to take a step forward and approach him, but Zelda held her back. Impa stood across from them, holding Eric back as well.

            Out of the blue, Kile raised his head. “I want some goddess’s damned respect, Link.”

            Lifting his head from his hands, he returned the man a betwixt twist to his face. “Why should I give you respect? You didn’t respect that you gave me life, and yet left my mother alone to raise me? Why should I respect _you_? She went through so much more pain than you just did because you gave me life. And in the end she died. You didn’t respect my life. You didn’t respect my mother. You deserve no respect, asshole.”

            Turning his head away from Link, Kile sighed. He rested his head on the sand, feeling the black look that was given to him burn into the back of his head. Link didn’t bother to speak, nor did Kile. Zelda felt the urge to step her foot in and speak, but she knew it would cause more harm than good. Kile and Link’s relationship was like the savage burning of a home.

            But the home that was crumbling wasn’t even a real home. It was all in their heads. Link wanted justice for his mother’s death and his troubled childhood. Kile apparently wanted to make things right, but his actions told otherwise. He seemed far too harsh to want to make up. The way he was acting, it seemed as if he came here just to pick a fight.

            Link’s attention turned to the man when he exhaled a distinct sigh, giving Kile a questionable glare. The man turned over from his side to lie on his back, angling his vision toward the blonde. “You want the truth?” Kile took a breath, playing that the topic was rather heartfelt. “I was scared.”

            Link snorted and crossed his arms, retorting, “Oh, so you were scared of a toddler? I see how it is.”

            At instant, Kile grabbed the collar of Link’s shirt and sat upright, tugging the boy closer to his face. “No. That’s now how it was. Just give me time to _explain_ and you’ll understand.”

            Rolling his eyes, Link shrugged. “Go ahead. It’s not like you’ve wasted enough of my time with your sudden intrusion.”

            “I wanted to make things right, thank you very much,” Kile growled, an icy whisper across the scorching desert.

            “Didn’t look like it.”

            Frustrated, the man ignored the younger’s last comment and began with his monologue of thought. “So, you know who we are descendants of, correct? The Hero of Time. And he is descendant of the Chosen Hero. Back in the Chosen Hero’s time, he was placed under a curse that would be passed down with each generation. All the descendants of the Chosen Hero would go through hell to save Hyrule, but suffer at the same time.”

            “I knew of the Hero of Time, his frivolous pain created by the seven years he missed, but tried to make up. I shrugged it off, though. I figured, he was a far ancestor of mine and the curse wasn’t likely active – Hyrule was flourishing. In the meantime, I found Annamarie. We settled into Ordon, talked about getting married. And then one night, I received a vision from a ghastly soldier who made himself known as the Hero’s Shade.”

            “That’s Kokau,” Link whispered to himself. “That was the Hero of Time. I know him, too.”

            Kile shrugged. “Nice to know, I don’t care, though. All he told me was that I underestimated the evil in my time, and that my firstborn son would be the one to save Hyrule. After that I was scared. I didn’t want my son to go through that hell.” He took a sigh, closing his eyes and recollecting his thoughts in an organized train. “And then we found out about you. I panicked, left. I couldn’t bear to see you go through crap.”

            “And yet I still did,” Link spoke with bitter chills. He placed his hand against his forehead and dragged it down his face. “Do you know how alone I felt as a child? Do you know how much I felt so unloved when I was the only kid without parents? I assume you don’t, because you’re stupid enough to believe I’m just oh-fucking-kay.”

            “I know you had it rough,’’ Kile murmured, facing the ground. “I resent the decisions of my younger self so much.”

            “Is that why you came back now? To make things right, plead to the goddesses to keep you from going to hell just because you tried to make right with me?” Link snorted, shaking his head disappointedly.

            “I know what’s happened to you, over the past year and a half.” Kile leaned in closer to Link, loosening his face and appearing less frustrated, and more… concerned.

            “Like _you’d_ care. You didn’t care about the first eighteen years; why would you, of all people, suddenly care now?” the shorter rebutted, beginning to stand to his feet and brush the sand from his clothes.

            Kile followed, despite the pains that battered him from the quarrel. He stood in front of Link and grabbed his shoulders, provoking an angered character to form on his face. “When I heard you wished death upon yourself, it hurt.”

            The blonde’s eyes widened as his breathing quickened. Standing motionless, the reel of the events portrayed in his head of that hell played over and over in his head. Link had begun to panic – Eric and Zelda were the first to notice, with Midna right beside them. The shaking of his limbs and the trembling of his lips – it seemed that Kile picked up on the hints, too.

            “W-well if you knew how I-I had felt th-then you would have agreed,” Link stammered, blinking his eyes quickly to rid of the tears that had begun to form. The idea of thinking the misfortunate events brought him down quickly.

            The blonde reopened his mouth to speak again, but he was swiftly cut off by long arms embracing his body. Startled, his eyes were wide and mouth formed a small ‘o’. He stood still as the arms pulled him close, held him tightly. Link was in as much shock as those standing around them. Gradually, one of the hands crept up to the back of the blonde’s head, and pushed his into Kile’s shoulder. Instinctively, Link raised his arms up and wrapped them around the other, lightly – without love or purpose, they were just there.

            “This doesn’t feel right,” Link whispered, only clear enough for Kile to listen in. “This isn’t right. I don’t consider you my father.”

            Kile pulled away and sighed, staring down at Link, looking right into his eyes. “I know,” he said, a pensive strain to his words. “But, I’m trying. I hope you appreciate that, because otherwise, I’m just an ass.”

            Link nodded. “Indeed.” Pulling away from the man, he turned to Midna and Zelda and Eric and Impa, who all stood and had watched him with wide eyes. To their amusement, he gave a sarcastic grin as he approached them, leaving his father standing there with drooping eyes and melancholy air.

            Turning to Kile, Link motioned for him to follow with his hand. “We’re going back to the castle with the only way out; I suggest you come as well.”

            Staring at the ground, the man loosened himself and walked over to the small group. They all stood in a circle, close to Midna, as she recited old Twili proverbs. Link knew what she was doing – the portal above their heads began to reveal itself, and soon enough, the six of them were sucked up into it, and relocated in the castle yard. Kile and Eric were knocked to their knees on the impact, the rest however just wobbled uneasily.

            As Zelda brushed the remnants of Gerudo dust off her gown, and grinned at the group that stood before her. “Well, it’s been a long day for us all, hasn’t it?” With the return of no feedback, the princess turned her head to Eric. “Could you show them all to their rooms? Use any spares that we have.”

            Eric nodded, and waved his hand, gesticulating for the others to follow. Midna, Link, and Kile all followed the red head, leaving Zelda alone with Impa. Once the castle doors closed, confirming the privacy of the two, Impa turned to the princess with grievous eyes and pursed lips.

            “How are we going to improve those two?” the Sheikah asked, impatiently waiting for an answer. “In all honesty, my grace, I don’t want to be staying in the castle if Link and Kile are going to be holding scream festivals all the time.”

            Zelda furrowed her brows and thought. There wasn’t much she could do. She had never seen a situation as such, as Link would be the only chosen hero in her life time. “I’ll figure something out. It may be a few days, but I’ll fix it.”

            Impa nodded. “We shall see to it be done, then.” The Sheikah offered her arm to the princess, who took it. As the approached the castle, the two could hear Eric’s voice echo from a window above.

* * *

 

            Eric looked over his shoulder, confirming all three still stood by his tail. First was Kile directly to his left, a rather downcast wave of emotion crashing over his face. Behind him stood Link and Midna side by side, fingers intertwined and hands locked together. A palpable smile was framed across the blonde’s face – it pleased Eric. He hadn’t seen his friend in such a purely happy mood in forever.

            Slowly, he stopped walking at the door to his right. He turned about face and grinned at the duo that had been behind him. “Link, Midna – your room.” He nudged his shoulder to direct them to the gaping door to his left.

            “This is the same room I had before.” Link grinned, recognizing the layout of the room.

            The red head nodded. “Yeah, all your stuff’s still in there, too. I washed all your clothes while you were away, as well.”

            Staring blankly at Eric, Link flushed a light hue of pink. Quickly, he reached out to the man and hugged him. “Thank you.”

            Patting the boy’s back, he chuckled, “It’s no problem.” Separating from Link, he looked in the room as the two entered. “Zelda will send somebody down to fetch you and bring you to the dining hall when supper is ready.”

            Midna turned to Eric and nodded her head to him as Link collapsed on the bed. Silently, he shut the door behind. Goddesses, who knows what they’d be doing in their free time? Rolling his eyes, the red head turned back to Kile. He was met with a miffed snarl, however.

            “Why are you letting them stay together? They’re not married. He’s still a teenager. I won’t allow it,” the man grumbled stamping his foot.

            Eric groaned and began to walk down the hall, with Kile surprisingly on his tail. “Well, sir, you weren’t married either when you hooked up with his mom so, eh. You shouldn’t have a say in it. And that you were gone for the first nineteen years of his life.” Eric turned while he walked, facing Kile, and heading down the hall backwards. “You have no say in what he does with her. It’s none of your business, it’s not mine – it’s _his_.”

            “Tch. You guys have no sense of morality,” Kile grumbled underneath his breath.

            “Says the man who left his fiancé with her unborn child.” Eric rolled his eyes and reached for a doorknob, yanking a door open. “Here’s your damned room. Now leave me alone.”

            “Fuck you.” Kile flipped the red head off, entering his room. In return, Eric slammed the man’s door shut as he left.

            “I don’t understand how those two are related,” he groaned, leaned up against the wall out of pure exhaustion.

* * *

 

            Link lay sprawled out the bed as an ogling mess, tiny snores resonating from his throat. Midna had gone through the pile of his things that sat on the dresser. They were strewn about, but she knew somebody had invaded his things. She was only glad the dark shard was still wrapped in its cloth, if it had not been, dangerous things would have happened to whoever had rummaged through the bag.

            Glancing back at Link, she smiled. The wolf boy was always exhausted; she didn’t meet a day where he hadn’t said that he was tired twenty times, at the least. Remembering of the old times, she giggled. Although those days held a dark veil around them – the memories together were fun at least. From falling in Lake Hylia while fishing, to the cold nights in the Gerudo Desert where they had to stay close just to retain heat. Thinking of such made her cheeks flush red.

            Then the question popped to her mind. She didn’t know how or when to ask. She had brought it up before, but never in a serious manner. Would Link even believe her? She was unsure. Instead of calmly thinking it out, Midna paced the room with worried quivers.

            “Would I ask him tonight? If so, _how_?” Glancing back at Link, she sighed. “Why must I be so afraid?”

            And to her surprise, he replied, “Afraid of what?”

            “N-n-nothing! Yes! Nothing at all!” Midna jumped, giving the least plausible smile. She only hoped it would stray off the concern of the still groggy Link.

            To her misfortune, however, he smirked and crossed his arms behind his head. “You know you’re a terrible liar, right?”

            Turning around, she faced the mirror, looking at Link from the reflection it gave. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

            Slowly, Link stretched his arms up and sat himself up, looking over at Midna. “So what’s troubling you? Something important you have to ask somebody?”

            Quickly, she nodded. “Exactly. And I’m just nervous about it.”

            Link shook his head and raised his brows. “Don’t fret it, you’re fine. You’re good with talking anyway – you’re the most vocal person I know.”

            “And is that a bad thing?”

            The blonde grinned and bushed. “Nope!”

            Both of them turned their heads to the door when the repeated knocks were heard. Midna opened the door to see Eric waiting for them.

            “Time to go down to the dining hall guys,” Eric whispered.

            Midna nodded her head in thanks, helping Link stand, and closing the door after them once they exited. As they followed Eric through the halls of the castle, the Twili was taking several deep breaths – calming herself. She needed confidence to do what she was about to.

            And she was ready. She was going to ask.   


	18. Questions

Zelda’s face was cross as she practically dragged Kile down the corridor to the dining hall. When she knocked on his door, he had bedamned her, presuming it was the red headed man coming to annoy him with his presence. Taken back by the sudden flaming, Zelda had barged in, yanked on the man’s long ear, and lugged him down the rotunda.      

            “Why do you have to be such a loud mouth?” the brunette grumbled, glancing back at Kile. “It’s rather rude to curse so much to somebody who you cannot identify in the situation.”

            Whimpering underneath the princess’ grip, Kile glared up at Zelda. “Well, if you had seen Eric’s words earlier, you’d tell him the same thing.”

            “No, I wouldn’t.”

            “What do you mean by ‘you wouldn’t’?” The man cocked a brow, halting his steps and pulling his ear from Zelda’s hand. “He practically screamed it across the castle!” In the next second, the woman turned and faced Kile, arms crisscrossed around her chest.

            “Well, he had a reason.”

            Rolling his eyes, Kile groaned, “Oh, really?”

            Zelda only nodded her head. “Yes, he did. To show you a point – that your son is a fully functional adult and can make his own decisions. I was already told of your conversation with Eric.” Swiftly, the princess turned on her heels and began down the hall again. Groaning, the man followed her, taking heavy steps that echoed in the stone walls.

            As Zelda neared the entrance to the large hall, she turned to Kile, gesturing that he go first. Grimacing, the man rolled his head, arching his neck around in a circle before reaching forward at the doorknob. Kile grit his teeth and tightened his gnarly hand against the handle, twisting it to his right and pulling it open. The poorly lit room that unveiled before him had one protracted tablet, lined with chairs along its perimeter. At each seat laid a small china platter, wine glass, and silver dining ware.

            Kile gawked at the elegant room, jaw hanging wide open as his eyes scrutinized each detail of the ornate decorum. Assured, it was all of Zelda's royalty. It was the main reason why the room was so lush. Kile’s meager amusement was abruptly brought to an end as he stared across the room at the trio entering. First came the red head, following behind him was Link and the Twili woman.

            Kile sneered, but Zelda pushed him forward, forcing him to pass through the threshold as she locked the door behind them. Exhaling, the main instinctively took a seat at the table towards the center of the lengthy sides. To his right, Eric sat himself in the empty seat, sarcastically grinning. On the opposite side of the table, Link and Midna sat themselves. Once all four of them had been accommodated and seated, Zelda took her place at the end of the table. The Sheikah woman was seated on the other end, facing the princess – nobody had even heard her enter.

            Clearing her throat, Zelda sat up tall, facing her ‘audience’ with bright eyes. “Good evening everybody!” She only received a vague nod from Link as a response. “I wanted to have this little feast tonight to celebrate the return of Midna and Link. _And,_ we are also having this dining together to fix the issues between you two.” The brunette pointed her fingers at the father and son, giving a stern look and pursing her lips.

            Link raised his brows in an irked manner, his dead stare glowering right into Zelda’s eyes. “Do we really have to do such a thing?”

            Zelda nodded. “Most certainly.”

            Rolling his eyes, the blonde whipped his head back and groaned. “This is going to be a _long_ night.”

            Kile groaned, beginning to play with his thumbs, not daring to look in the eyes of Link or Zelda. “Well, we wouldn’t have to do so if you didn’t decide to throw your fists at me earlier.” Slowly glancing up the blonde across from him, he smirked. That alone was a stupid enough decision.

            Link shot a deathly glare at Kile, showing his obviously gritted teeth. Slamming his palms on the table, he began to push himself up until Midna pulled him back down. Leaning on the table, the Twili rested her head in her hands and gave Kile coy grins and teases. It was obviously getting on his nerves.

            With a strong voice, Midna said, “How about you realize for once what you did to him? Never being there harms the soul. Especially a boy without a father.”

            “Tch,” the man hissed, crossing his arms.  His ears perked up when there was a scratching at the door. The clawing at the wooden frame echoed throughout the room, catching everybody’s attention.

            Then there was a bark. Immediately, Link stood to his feet and stared at the door, wide eyed. The scrawling against the door stopped. Slowly, an illuminous and glowing golden wolf began to stride right through the door. Apprehensively, Link began to take slow strides away from the table and to the wolf, reaching his left hand out to meet with its nose. Pleased, the golden wolf closed its eyes and cocked his head to the touch of Link’s hand.

            In response, the boy grinned, whispering, “Kokau… you came back.”        

            Stepping back, the wolf lowered its front end, and then rushed at Link, jumping right through him, rendering the boy physically unconscious as they talked inside his head. Eric was the first to jolt out of his seat, catching the falling boy in his arms. Slowly, he lowered him to the ground; the red head’s eyes wide and breathing heavy.

            “What just happened?” Eric panted, catching his break while growing protective over Link.

            The twilit princess was the first to set herself on her feet. “That golden wolf is the hero’s shade. He was a tutor to Link during the twilight invasion. You do not have to worry. This happened each time the two sparred.” Midna buoyed Eric, smiling lightly. “He’ll be up in a few minutes – don’t worry.”

            Eric sighed in relief, the man across from Midna, however, was rather arrogant. “You sure the kid isn’t on drugs and was seeing things?”

            Flustered, Zelda rose and slammed the palms of her hand on the table. Her eyes were wide and shot a fuming glare at the man. “Kile. You might as well shut up before I come over there and knock _you_ cold.”

            Rolling his eyes, the man groaned and turned away from the princess, crossing his arms along his chest. “I doubt it.”

            Suddenly, two soft hands were wrapped around Kile’s head; one covering his eyes, the other his mouth. He didn’t even bother to struggle, although he felt galled by the heated breaths that traced his neck. “Are you sure? I was trained by a Sheikah as a young child, in case I needed to fend myself if Hyrule was in danger. Thankful enough, I didn’t have to use it in the past years. But if needed I’ll use it now.”

            Pulling her hands away, Zelda smirked in delight. Kile looked pale as the moon, eyes wide as a gaping mouth as his lips trembled. The man’s hands had gripped the sides of the chair, and Impa stared at him with an amused smirk. The Sheikah gave Zelda a nod of approval, and the princess only grinned.

* * *

 

_Link groaned, rolling his neck, hearing a pop as the bones of his spine aligned themselves together. Above him stood the bright blonde man garbed in green. Grinning down at Link, the man reached down a hand, aiding him up. As the boy’s eyes adjusted while the blood rushed to his head, he notice that they didn’t stand in the starry plateau where they did in their previous meeting; rather, they stood in a dilapidated castle – flags torn, tables dusted, bricks falling from the walls. The place had an eerie appearance, giving Link the chills._

_“Don’t worry,” Kokau spoke, wrapping his arm around Link’s shoulders. “It’s just the Hylian castle from my era. No harm.”_

_“So the castle looked like a dump in your time?”_

_Chuckling, the taller shook his head, offering the younger a chair as he sat. “No. It looked regal and vast – I remember the first time I set my eyes on it, I was nine. I was scared and hungry – I had to lug all the way from the Kokiri village, through the lost woods, across Hyrule field, and into the castle town before it got to sunset. I was an untrained child with a sword – I would have died if I hadn’t gotten there by nightfall. The beasts would’ve gotten me in the night.”_

_Link sat and nodded his head, he opened his mouth to speak, but Kokau continued on._

_“And when I first saw Zelda, she was so pretty. Her guardian though, Impa – she scared me shitless. The Sheikah are rather intimidating in appearance. Don’t you say?”_

_Link agreed. “I think it’s the intensity of their eyes.”_

_Grinning, the taller snickered, “Yup! But anyways – Zelda was like a friend to me. But when I was asleep in the Temple of Time for seven goddesses damned years, she disappeared. When I had woken up as sixteen, the only friend I made who was good enough as her was a man named Sheik. He was the only Sheikah that I didn’t find terrifying. He helped me, too. But in the end, turned out that Sheik was Zelda’s disguise. Masked her form really well actually. And when it was all over, I wanted to be better friends with Zelda. I wanted to do so much more – I wanted to learn about all I had missed.”_

_“But, Zelda thought sending me back in time would do better. It only made my life hell, though. I never met Zelda again when I went back.” Kokau reached back into one of his pouches, pulling out a small item that Link couldn’t distinguish, and played with it between his thumbs._

_“What’s that?” Link peered over, contending to identify the small item in Kokau’s hands._

_“A ring.”_

_“Oh,” he whispered, pulling his head back and turning it to the floor. After a long sigh, he looked back up at the man. Kokau’s face looked rather stringed and pained. “Was that for Zelda?”_

_The man’s face turned a bright red before he nodded. “Yes. Although I didn’t understand most of the world, still having the though process of a nine-year-old, I understood what marriage was. And I wanted to marry her.” He held up the ring for Link to see. “I had made it over my quest. I made it with some of the finest jewels to each tribe. I wanted to give it to her when I had found her again. Little did I know she was beside me for most of the time.” He chortled and shook his head._

_Reaching his hand out, he grabbed Link’s shoving the ring in his palm. The dirty blonde stared up at Kokau with wide eyes. “Why are you giving me this?”_

_Standing from his chair, the Hero’s Shade stood from his chair and approached Link, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Because you love Midna.”_

_Link’s cheeked glowed red as he stared up at Kokau in disbelief. “But, she’s a princess – a princess of a completely foreign kingdom that hates me. That would be so irrational of me – I’d probably get beheaded or damned to the endless torture of the Nothingness.” Soon his words fell apart, becoming incoherent blabber – stutters and incomplete phrases._

_Taking note of the boy’s panic, Kokau knelt down and wrapped Link in his arms. Taking the back of the boy’s head in one hand and pressed it against his shoulder, startling Link. “Calm down. If Midna loves you enough as it seems she does – she wouldn’t let that happen. Neither would Zelda. Or Eric. Or Din, Nayru, and Farore. Not I. Not even your father.”_

_Taking a breath and pushing away Kokau, Link stared at the man with wide eyes. “What do you mean? My father wants me dead. He didn’t even want me to exist. He hates me. He wouldn’t even care if I died – hell, he’d rather be the one to push me into the nothingness.”_

_Staring blankly at Link, Kokau, frowned, his eyes beginning to droop. “No. You should have seen your father the night I told him of his future son’s curse. He was heartbroken. He wanted a kid, but the curse scared him enough to make himself believe he didn’t want one. And when he found out about you, he couldn’t take it.”_

_“And no, I’m not saying what he did was right, nor do I ever support him for it. But after he left I watched him. He traveled as far as he could before I told him to head back. During the first few months, he cried a lot. He prayed to the goddesses, repenting his sins, and asking them to take back the curse. That’s when I explained to him that it was unchangeable. He was devastated. He wanted to see your face so bad. He wanted to marry Annamarie and live with you. He didn’t want you to die.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Link groaned, “Kokau, you’ve officially gone fucking crazy.”_

_Grabbing Link’s ear, Kokau inched his face close. “No, I haven’t. I have not said you had to love your father. Not once. Because I hate him, too. I’m only telling you what I observed – to prove that he doesn’t want you to die.”_

_“Then why does he treat me so cold?” Link snorted, swatting away Kokau’s hand._

_Taking a heavy sigh and giving a rather addled frown, the taller pulled back. “I don’t know the answer to that. I’m sorry. I can’t read his mind.”_

_Gradually, the dirty blonde nodded, his eyelids drooping over his bright blue irises. His gaze met with the faded brick floor, tapping his foot, creating an echo throughout the antiqued hall. Kokau watched as the life seemed to slip away from the boy’s face in a heavy sigh._

_“Stand up.”_

_The man’s voice startled Link from his halfhearted slumber. He looked up at Kokau with dazed eyes – glossy like a dog’s. The man’s sudden command confused him. He had never spoken in such a tone, even when the two had sparred in training. Never had such an icy chill reflected from his voice. Never had it been. It sent Link shivering down his spine as Kokau stood at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed, facing away from him._

_“Kokau, what is it?” Link raised his voice, questioning the man’s inflection._

_Grumbling and hissing, the man groaned, “I only told you to stand. Do as you’re told.”_

_Widening his eyes, Link did as Kokau ordered. He stood from the chair that had become his resting place and began to near towards him, taking cautious steps. “Kokau, what have I done wrong to upset you?”_

_No response._

_“Kokau! What did I do?” Link began to raise his voice, the words he spoke becoming detached and emphasized. “I haven’t done anything.”_

_Again, Kokau stood silent._

_“What did I do? I’ve done nothing! I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve this! Can you just tell me what I did? Because as far as I know I haven’t done anything!” Link’s voice cracked as it escalated to the heightened stress it was at._

_To the blonde’s surprise however, the man before him turned his head. “That’s exactly it.”_

_Cocking his head, Link scrunched his nose and brows, displayed the most confused of faces. “What do you mean?”_

_At instant, Kokau swung around, facing Link with an animated grin daubed across his lips. As he began to quickly change his pace toward the boy, he began to swing his arms about as he spoke. “That’s exactly it! I wanted you to admit you did nothing wrong! You’ve been putting yourself down for the longest time because you felt you did something wrong – but you just admitted that you did nothing wrong.”_

_Taken back, Link leaned back as Kokau’s face swooped into his. Stammering, he held his hand up by his sides. “No, no, I only meant as of now… not this whole time.”_

_Just then, the taller’s face grew stern and uptight. “Child, you did nothing wrong. Now c’mon – I’m showing you how to propose.”_

_“Wait – what?” Link stammered, being dragged across the room by Kokau._

_As the taller halted, Link crashed right into Kokau’s side. As he pulled away from the man’s side, he looked up to see a devilish grin stare right back down at him. “Pretend I’m Midna.”_

_Raising one brow, Link snickered, “How am I supposed to do that? You resemble nothing about her.”_

_Sighing, Kokau rolled his eyes, sarcastically placing his hands on his hips and speaking in a high pitch. “Oh wow, wolfy’s not as dumb as I thought… or is he?”_

_“How did you just imitate her voice so accurately?”_

_Groaning, Kokau laughed, “I heard that voice critiquing your form too many times during our training.”_

_Link shrugged and smirked, agreeing._

_“Now get down on one knee,” Kokau directed. Fumbling, Link gracelessly dropped himself to one knee, wincing as he heard the joint crack under impact. “Now, the ring.” Link nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out the small silver ring. “I’m not going to make you confess your undying love for me, although it’s obvious you have so much, but when you do this for Midna – do something along that. Then ask her to marry you. She says yes. You guys have a wedding and then soon I expect children.”_

_“Children…?” Link questionably raised his brows at Kokau. “How the Twili would murder me. And her father. He doesn’t even know me yet.”_

_“I want grandbabies.”_

_“You’re not my da-“_

_“Grandbabies.”_

* * *

 

            Zelda, Eric, Impa, Kile and Midna all sat around the table, waiting and waiting, for Link to return. Midna held him in her arms, caressing his face with one hand. The Twili glanced up, taking in the sight around her; Impa and Zelda at the far end of the room discussion confidential matters, Eric pacing across the longer side, and Kile crossing his arms while chewing on a toothpick.

            “How much longer will it be until he wakes up?” The deep voice startled the Princess. She stared at its owner blankly before responding.

            “Kile, I don’t know. I wasn’t able to join in on this one as I had done when I took form in Link’s shadow,” Midna sighed. “Whatever those two are discussing could be rather heartfelt to Link, as we all know he has been greatly troubled the past year or so.”

            The man only looked away and nodded slowly, showing his acknowledgement of her words. Kile’s conduct confused the Twili, though. For once, he seemed to _want_ to be involved with Link’s care. It was odd and uncanny from the typically stubborn man. Raising a brow, she opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately adjourned by the stirring in her arms. The blonde boy that rested on Midna’s legs grumbled and groaned, making little movements and adjusting his head.

            Grinning, the Twili lowered her head down to meet his and whispered in his ear, “Wolf boy, it’s time to get up ya’ sleepyhead.”

            A small smirk played on his face while his eyelids slowly opened. When his vision adjusted and his vision clearly explicated the frame of Midna’s smooth face, Link’s smirk grew to a wide gleam across his face. Speechless, all he could do was raise his head just enough to clasp his lips with hers, stunning Midna. After a second she gave in and closed her eyes until he pulled away, face bright right and an overjoyed simper.

            “Welcome back, dork.” The Twili chuckled, lips curled up into the neatest of smiles.

            “Nice to see you, too, Midna,” Link retorted while slowly sitting up, Midna guiding him to his seat. As he sat, he brushed his hand against his pocket – it was still there. He wasn’t expecting the miniscule object to stay there after he left Kokau’s world. He was nervous though. The idea of messing up scared him. And just the formality of the event seemed rather intimidating. He had to do it, though. It was now or never.

            Synchronously, both Midna and Link turned to each other, addressing one another’s names. The collision of their voices caused the attention of all those in the room to focus in on them. Link’s head felt light, he felt the many pairs of eyes burn into the back of his head. As if he weren’t nervous enough already – he felt the pressure bury him.

            “You go first,” Link turned his head away, face hot and blushing.

            Shaking her head, the Twili crossed her arms and stood. “No, you.”

            Sighing, Link stared at the floor, reaching his hand into his pocket and holding the small item between his fingers. “Same time?”

            The Twili nodded, taking careful note of Link’s paling face. She knew something was up with him – something happened while he was talking to the Hero’s Shade it was obvious. She on the other hand, was anxious enough as well. Both looked each other in the eye, and took a deep breath together to signify the start.

            Immediately, Link clumsily dropped to one knee, and as he thought Midna spoke, the words flew from his mouth like Epona racing across the field. “Midna, I thought you would only be a friend to me when we met. But as time when on I realized you became a part of me, and when you left, something kept telling me to get it back or don’t go on. And here you are, and here I am. And I… I… Midna…. Will you marry me?” Slowly, Link’s eyes made their way up to stare into Midna’s. From his hand, he revealed a small ring. “Please, Midna. You mean everything to me.”

            Gleaming, Midna knelt down in front of the Hylian and wrapped her arms around his chest as she inched towards his face. “Of course I’ll marry you, you dumb wolf. I needed to find a suitor anyway.” Before the blonde had any time to respond, the Twili bent forward and latched her lips onto his.

            As she pulled away, small applauses came from behind them – from Eric, Zelda, and Impa. Kile only sat there. He didn’t frown, nor was he clapping. He just stared vaguely at them. He didn’t seem happy, or sad, or angry. He just existed there, at that place and time.

            “I hope you two have fun,” Kile whispered, standing from the table and turning to the door. “Don’t let me stop you – I’ve already ruined enough.”    

            Link and Midna both stared blankly at the man as he excused himself from the hall. Impa immediately took off behind him as Zelda turned to the newly engaged.

            “I’m assuming you would prefer the wedding here?” The princess asked with raised brows.

            Link shook his head. “Ordon. I don’t want it big. Just small and simple.” Turning his head to Midna for approval, she nodded.

            Squinting her eyes, Zelda reluctantly agreed. “So it shall be done. I’ll ask that Eric escort you back to your room, as I assume you want time for yourselves.”

            And with that, Eric quickly took lead to the door, leaving Midna and Link to catch up and Zelda alone in the hall with the mess. As the trio ascended the stairs, Link slowly came to a stop in front of one of the guest doors. As he was about to reach for the door handle, Eric immediately turned and pulled his hand away.

            “You don’t want to go in there – that’s your father’s room.”

            Link raised a brow. “I know. I need to go in there, though. And I need to go alone.”

            Disquieted, Eric sighed and took a step back from Link, returning to Midna’s side. Both the red head and the Twili stared as the blonde slowly returned his hand to the door knob and twisted it. As the door opened, he slipped in and quietly shut it behind them.

            Eric stared at the floor, tapping his foot as he waited impatiently. “So, are you guys excited?”

            “I’m happy. I would presume Link is. He seemed to be getting worked up over the question,” Midna giggled, thinking of the scenario not too long ago.

            “Well that’s great,” Eric affirmed, smiling. “I just hope Kile doesn’t try to get in the way.”

* * *

 

            The creak at his door alerted him. “Zelda, I excused myself. I wanted to be left alone.”

            Awkwardly, Link stood still by the doorway and pursed his lips, regretting the decision of ever entering the room. “Hello Dad.”

            Kile’s ears perked instantly, and he whipped his body around to face the blonde. In response, he sneered down at him, crossing his arms. “What do you want? You never call me that.”

            “To say thank you.” Link sighed, dropping his shoulders. “By the way, it doesn’t feel right calling you that anyway.”

            “As I presumed,” Kile snorted, standing from the edge of the bed. “So why would you ever want to thank me? As far as I knew you hated me, shall I quote this morning?”

            Rolling his eyes and scrunching his brows, the blonde looked away. “I am thanking you for giving me life.”

            Taken back, Kile’s eye widened and his lips parted. “And, what’s so great about life? You and possibly you future children are plagued with this curse.”

            Shaking his head, Link shrugged, grinning up at his father. “Curse and all, I thank you. If I hadn’t received the curse, I would have never met Midna. And if I had never met her, I would have never met Zelda or Eric. Hell, I wouldn’t have just asked her to marry me!” The blonde took a deep breath in after his voice had inclined. “So I say thank you and goodnight.”

And with that, Link turned right back out the door, leaving Kile alone in his room, confused and concerned. And quite guilty, too.

 

           

           


	19. Traditions

            Even with several days passing since the last time he spoke with Link, Kile remained confounded; bollixed by the previous quarrel with the boy. His mind was emptied thought - he couldn’t even consider processing the possible motivations for Link’s rationale of the other day. What occurred in the dining hall was to be expected, it was almost obvious that it would happen one day or another, between he and Midna. But, afterwards, when the boy willfully entered his room and _thanked him_. Of all things, Kile never expected Link to thank him. For the nightmare he was forced into just by a curse at birth, he never expected thanks. Rather, he thought a thorough wave of blaspheming him would suit the situation.

            But no, that was not what happened. And now, to Zelda’s request, he was crammed in the back of a horse drawn wagon along with the princess, Eric, and Impa. Link and Midna were leading the wagon while taking steed upon Epona. Ordon was their destination. Kile knew the way, he would have directed them. Link had cordially offered to lead them, however. Zelda didn’t deny it. The woman didn’t even trust Kile enough to even think of giving him the permission to direct.

            So in the back of a wagon Kile sat, atop of dry and itchy hay that had a moldy odor nested within. His sense of the space faded in and out with the budding heat of the coming spring. Each time the whip slapped against the horse’s hide, the loud snap brought him back to reality; dragging him from the cloudy mess of his head. Occasionally he heard the lighthearted and joyous snickers from Link and Midna.

            The boy was happy at least. He found love and didn’t want to die, anymore, that is. The guilt that waved over him when he heard of Link’s attempt at death wrung him cold, ripping away any sense of hope that maybe his son’s life wasn’t as miserable as it was said to be. He hadn’t expected it would drag the boy so low. It was true; the boy had a rather pale tone to his skin. Nor did he look the healthiest. But, they said he was getting better. And that was all that mattered. With a heavy sigh, Kile hung his head forward, gradually preoccupying the attention of Impa’s wary eyes.

            “If you feel sick, look outside. That should help. We’re almost there anyways, according to Link,” the Sheikah blankly said. Her eyes slightly drooped, showing off her emotionless stare.

            Oh how he wanted to roll his eyes and grumble at Impa, but no, he would get scolded, rebuked for his poor choice of actions. And his disrespect – the stringy royalty bothered him so much; as he was fit to be a simple country-lad. Compared to his son, though, he didn’t show as nearly as much of his homeland as Link did. As for Kile, he grew up there, but once he was free, he travelled the countryside. Link, however, grew up in the heartland of famers. His accent was quite evitable and heavy – sadly, such accent skewed some of his pronunciations.

                His accent made much of his sentences sound idiotic, though, were well structured and thought it. The way he sounded gave off the impression that he was just the typical dumb famer boy. Unless he was garbed in green for the rest of his life, nobody would recognize him as the hero. That really bothered Kile. He was Hyrule’s hero in the eyes of those who knew. But that was only a small handful of people who he interacted with on his quest.

Then the wagon came to a stop, outside the tented arrangement was the rich forestry of Faron. The horse would not budge past the bridge. Link and Midna glanced back at the halted wagon, as they waited for further instruction whether to carry on or not. Taking a sigh, Kile was the first to stand, slowly; he crawled to the back of the wagon and allowed himself out, aiding the rest of the passengers off.  What had spurred him the most was the look on Zelda’s face as she exited the wagon; her tight face was rather loosened, and more-so confused. Maybe she was curious as to the out of place courtesy. He had the capability to show it all along – but, in all honestly, refused to do so until now.

As the small group paid their thanks to the driver of the small carriage, Link looked down at them, but simply shrugged it away, giving a slight squeeze to Epona’s barrel, signaling that she continue. The horse only whinnied and slowly began to take steps onto the shaky bridge to the Ordona providence. Link, Epona, and Midna led the way, as the small group followed behind. Eric strolled rather slowly, taking in the lush scenery. He had never seen Link’s hometown before, nor had he ever been this far south in Hyrule – it was too obvious.

Once the bridge was crossed, the clearing with the light spring stood out, and the path back to Ordon was worn, clearly showing that it was treaded daily. The newcomers began to gaze around in awe at the lush forest life, as if it were part of a fairy tale. It made sense though, as Kile began to think about it more and more. The forest was practically untouched, aside the path. Its floor was covered with thick undergrowth and exotic flowers and herbs. The trees themselves were densely packed, tied together with vines that reached across branch to branch.

His admiration of the luscious landscape was stripped away from him as Link called his name. When his attention diverted to the boy, he grinned, and opened his mouth to speak. “Since you know this place as well as I do, run ahead and tell Bo we’ll need some extra beds.”

Groaning, he felt the shot of Zelda’s stare shred into the side of his head, and reluctantly nodded, knowing that if he disagreed he wouldn’t hear the end of it. While the group came to a stop in the clearing beside Link’s house, Kile took a heavy gulp and began to tread down the path to the small village. The fear that ran through his mind was how the others would treat him, as since the last time he showed himself, he had changed. At least, he hoped he had.

The first glances he received were those of the children running around, playing with a dumb old slingshot. The small bodies looked confused though – like he was somebody they had seen before. The only people who he had previously known from the town were Rusl, Uli, and Bo. Instead of worrying over the kids’ curiosity, Kile just continued to make his way to the mayor’s house, passing by the people looking at him from their gardens.

It was only when Bo finally came outside his house that a sour look was directed upon him. The stout man crossed his arms and gave a rather deathly glare to Kile. “So you’re back, eh?”

Exhaling a hot breath, Kile continued to walk up to the mayor, stopping just as their faces were about to touch. “Yes, but per request of Princess Zelda. Link has returned and with several others, Zelda asked me to inform you that extra rooms will be needed tonight.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“They’re in the clearing by Link’s house,” Kile groaned, rolling his eyes.

With sense of dubiety in the man, he motioned back to his daughter who stood on their porch to follow him. Ilia nodded in delight and the two began to follow the worn trail to the outskirts of the village, Kile right on their tail. And slowly, few of the adults, along with all the children, tagged along to the little venture of truth.

And sure enough, as they entered the opening of the wooded area that exposed Link’s humble home, the group stood there – Zelda and all. The children, though, as soon as they saw Link, they ran. The smaller blond wasn’t to rush, as he helped guide a small toddler over. Kile only presumed they were siblings. And it was to their attention that Link focused in on. He picked up the small girl in his arms and smiled at her, cooed at her, made her giggle. The small boy beside introduced her. Kile presumed this was Link’s first time meeting the girl, from his actions.

All was good, Bo met Zelda the two spoke about Link’s recovery. The Ordonian folk grew quiet, however, when they heard Link’s door open and close, out stepping the Twilit Princess. Almost immediately, Ilia pulled the children back while their faces grew wide. Rusl and Bo reached to draw their swords from their sides, just as Link jumped in front of them, eyes wide in panic.

Link breathed heavy, eyes wide as well as his stance. Rusl and Bo both noticed he was smaller than before – nowhere near having the same capacity of strength as he previously had. But, the two knew he was serious, if he was as weak as he was and still jumped in front of what they thought was a ‘beast’. On the other hand, however, Midna stood at the top of Link’s balcony, feeling sick to her stomach. She was putting more stress and paint on the boy. As of now, he was scared for her life, and Midna felt at fault for it.

“N-no!” the blond’s voice shrieked over the clearing, silencing all those who stood within the small expanse. “Don’t you _touch_ her.” Link’s eyes met face with the soil, wide and panicked, chest expanding and contracting with each disjointed breath.

With an exasperated sigh, Rusl slid his sword back in its sheath, a visible frown forming on his face. “What shall we do with it then?”

Glaring up at the man, Link hissed, “ _Her_ name is Midna. And you will not be doing _anything_ to her. I brought her here with me. And you will learn to love her as you love me, because I am marrying her.” With a dissatisfied grunt, the blond straightened his stance, glancing at both Bo and Rusl, who both had evident frowns.

With a twist in his step, Link spun away from the two older men, avoiding the reaching arm of Zelda’s and continuing to step up his ladder, joining alongside Midna. Shaking his head back at the group in the clearing, Link cursed under his breath, and motioned for the Twili to return to his house with him. Despite the desperate looks Zelda and Eric gave him, he wasn’t going to let anybody take Midna away from him. No, not again. Slamming his door shut behind him, Link took a deep breath, and collapsed to the ground. Midna frowned as she watched her partner bury his head in his hands, trying to hide away from the light.

“Link,” the Twili knelt down beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

The blond didn’t even raise his head from his hands to look up at her; he only adjusted his position that hid himself within the embrace of the Twili. Gently, Link wrapped his arms around her and held her closely to him. Midna felt the slight twitches and trembles as he tried to remain as calm as possible, but only knew he felt guilty for yelling at those who cared for him.

“Midna,” the boy choked, a squeak to his voice, “I just don’t want to lose you again. Not again.”

As her eyes widened, the Twili reached her arms further around the blond, tightening her grip on him, attempting to provide a feeling of a safe shelter over his head. Like a cocoon, Midna wrapped herself around Link and pressed his head against her shoulder, resting her chin atop.

“Link, I won’t leave you ever again,” Midna whispered, swaying her hand along his back, to provide a sense of reassurance. “I won’t let them take me; I won’t let anybody separate me from you ever again.”

* * *

 

“The princess has been gone for several days now, as well as the light-dweller. And our lead guard at the castle is missing. Do you advise we go through?”

Shaking his head, the other agreed. “Most certainly. She’s probably with the dumb Hylian. Trek to places where he would be. She’ll most likely be with him.”

Taking a deep breath, the first grabbed his spear, slipped a garment over his black and white patterned skin, and approached the portal from their realm to the counter’s. The mark of the triforce centered in the eloquent design, surrounded by ancient Hylian script and markings. The other watched as the one led a small claimant to the mirror, reaching his hand out, gently brushing his fingertips against the stone.

As the stone began to burn gleamingly – illuminating the Twili’s face that stood in front of it. His lips hung slightly as he watched the ingress opened itself to the light realm. As the pathway dilated to maximum capacity, the group took deep breaths, and began to step into the link between the worlds. Before they even knew it, they felt their skin shiver and mutate as the gateway altered their forms in the travel.

Next thing they knew, their faces were down in the dirt, and the setting sun broiled against their skin. The leader, pushing himself up, groaned at the stinging of his twilit skin. Slipping his hood over his head, he gathered the rest of his crew and looked to the sky. As the color transitioned from a bubbly orange to a deep purple-blue, the lights flying upwards from castle town grew obvious.

With a shrewd smirk playing on his face, the Twili turned to his troupe, gesturing to them with the swaying of his arm. “C’mon. I know where we’re going. And we have our princess to find, and that Hylian kid to kill.”

* * *

 

Neither Link nor Midna had been seen for the rest of the night. The small gang had resided in taking home in the rooms offered to them. Eric, however, didn’t return to the cabins with Zelda. He began on foot out of the small town, passing Link’s house, and right into Faron, stopping at the Ordon Spring.

Hands in his pockets, he sighed as he stared at his sheathed sword beside him. The red head hadn’t realized he had dozed off on the shore of the spring. The sky was a mixture of orange, blue, purple, and pink. A pleasing combination – all thanks to the goddesses’ swell choice of colors for the world around them.

Taking a sigh, Eric began to close his eyes once again, sprawled out over the sand, until he heard hoof beats echoing from the distance, getting louder and louder with each stride. Rising to his feet, the red head latched his scabbard to his side, wrapping his hand about the hilt of his blade, preparing to fight if needed.

The tension in the air resolved as soon as he saw the Hylian crest on the horse’s saddle pad. Sheathing his sword, Eric approached the halting horse. Atop the friendly beast was a Hylian soldier, out of breath, yet eyes wide in panic.

“Wh-where’s the princess? It’s urgent.” The young man attempted to calm his breathing, but ended up pausing while attempting to talk, nevertheless.

Crossing his arms, Eric cocked his head upwards, still staring downward at the lad. “Well, the princess is on the interior of the town. But I have been appointed her personal guard on this small trip. I can relay the message on to her.”

Rolling his eyes and releasing hot breath, the soldier regained his breath and stood as firm as he could while facing Eric. “Sir, a small band of Twili bounty hunters came in through the portal. They raided the castle looking for Midna and Link. From what we could hear, they’re going to kill the lad if they have the chance.”

At instant, Eric’s eyes widened, jaw droppings and fear washing over his face. “Where are the Twili now?”

“We saw them going west to Kakariko. They will surely find this place in a day’s time, despite how remote it is.”

Nodding, the red head shooed off the soldier with a small ‘thank you’, and continued to head back to Ordon, a hardboiled stride to his step. His face was tight, fists balled. As he entered the clearing where Link’s home resided, he noted Midna and Link stepping down the small ladder.

“Hey, you two,” Eric called after them. Their heads turned to face him – Link raising his brow to show his attentiveness. “I’ve got to have an urgent meeting with you two, Zelda, and the others. Meet at Bo’s, pronto.”

The Twili nodded her head, grabbing the smaller Hylian by the arm, and beginning to follow behind Eric. Once in the town, the trio had diverted to gather to the rest. It was only minutes before the small group was gathered in front of Bo’s house. Kile looked rather sloppy, just a mess compared to Link. Zelda stood in an Ordonian outfit, still half asleep. And Bo, he just opened his door to allow the group to congress in his office.

Pacing the room, Link tapped at his chin while the rest of the party took seats. “So, what’s this all about Eric?”

“This morning, while I was down at the Spring, one of our soldiers came to seek audience of princess Zelda. I am here to deliver the news,” Eric sighed, turning his head away from Link.

Hearing her name caught the princess’ attention, however. “What is it? What was needed to be told to me?”

Shutting his eyes, Eric directed his head toward the floor, suddenly feeling unable to share the information. He knew he had to, for Link’s safety. But the content itself made him feel sick. And with a final breath, Eric pulled his head up and opened his eyes, staring blankly out the window. “A group of Twili bounty hunters came in through the portal.” A pause. “They’re coming to find Midna to bring her back.” He could just see the Twili sighing and staring down. “And, they know she’s with Link. They want to kill him.”

The silence in the room fell from inquisitive listeners to cold fear. The room had a chill like the tops of Snowpeak. He couldn’t bare look at Midna, nor Zelda, nor Link. Giving such news physically hurt. It ached. It was one thing Eric never wanted to do – tell a friend that he’s wanted, wanted dead.

“I still want to marry him in Ordon, though,” Midna spoke up. Glancing left to Link, who lent on her side. “He wanted it. We can go nomadic afterwards and stay away from the bounty hunters.”

Zelda turned to the fellow princess and sheepishly grinned. “Then it will have to be done tomorrow. We cannot waste any time and risk the safety of you both, and the rest of Ordon.” The short blond nodded his head in agreement, glancing outside at the small town. Zelda reconstructed his attention when she began to speak again. “So, I’m presuming that you wanted it here to follow a different tradition. Would you care to explain?”

Link’s face went wide as a faint rosiness painted itself across his cheeks, a dumbfounded expression glazing across the blank slate. Chuckling lightly, he turned away from Zelda, avoiding her stare. “I don’t know. The last wedding I went to was when I was really little, when my mom was still around.”

Overhearing the conversation from over in the kitchen, Bo stepped in and grinned lightly, raising his hand to speak. Once Zelda nodded her head at him, giving him permission to speak, the man lit up, like he was bouncing on his toes. “Well, I could arrange the ceremony. It would take place in the spring. It’s rather subtle. I can get Rusl to prepare Link, and Uli to help Midna. If you want the ceremony tomorrow, they need to be separated now.”

Twisting about face to catch glimpse of Eric, the princess raised her brows, unnecessary to speak to get her orders across to him. With the blink of an eye, the red head turned to leave the building. Link watched from the window as Eric crossed the scream, and bounded up the hill to Rusl’s home. He watched as small Colin opened the front door, greeting the tall soldier, then fetching his parents for them. He watched as Eric explained the situation, and the duo happily agreeing. Next thing he knew, there they were at Bo’s front door, waiting for both of them.

Slowly, Link stood, Midna following him. As he approached the door, Link waved a goodbye to Erica and Zelda, and then followed Rusl as the two began to trek up to the ranch. Uli took Midna down the path to the spring.

Laying his arm over the boy’s shoulders, Rusl smirked over at Link. “So you found yourself a wife, eh?” Glancing over at the boy’s face, taking in the bright red that began to burn on his skin, the older man laughed. “It happens to all of us at some point in our lives, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Oh, and Bo and I apologize for yesterday. We didn’t know that was the girl you had talked on and on about.”

Smiling and facing the dirt under their feet, Link laughed, baring the smile that people hadn’t seen for moons. “Oh it’s alright. As long as you don’t hold a grudge against her, I forgive you.”

Facing front once again, Rusl patted the blond’s back and gleamed. “Good. Now, do you have any clue what to do for tomorrow?”

“Uh.. kiss her?”

“I mean everything _before_ that.”

“Oh, then no. I don’t.”

Snickering, Rusl stopped at the fence of the goat field, and turned to Link. “Well then, boy, we’ve got some work to do. Come with me.”


	20. "I won't be alone again"

            Link sighed as he climbed the ladder that led to his front door – tonight would be his last lonely night. By tradition, as Rusl had said earlier, he wasn’t allowed to see Midna until the ceremony of wed. Hopefully, tonight was going to be the last night he slept alone until he grew old and passed on. Opening his eyes, Link pulled himself up to the ledge in front of his door, to which he proceeded on opening it and entering the humble home of his.

            Dust had piled up along the furniture – the previous night, Link nor had Midna cared of the filth and passed out of exhaustion. Shaking his head, he removed the sack of ceremonial robes for the following day from his back, crossed the house to the small kitchen, and dampened a cloth to cleanse the rustic furniture of its grime. After the layer of gray was stripped from the wood, the read oaky color seemed more vivid. Happier, if it were an animate object.

            Yawning, Link rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Retiring the cloth back to his sink, he walked off to the washroom, divesting himself of the day’s clothes. Strewing them to the floor, Link reached up behind his head, beginning to undo the small braid that Midna had made in his hair the previous day – smiling as the last braid fell free. Retaking his now loose hair into his hands, he pulled it up off of his neck, tying it tight into a pony tail with the same cloth that had held his braid together formerly.

            Pulling his hands back down to his sides, he looked in front of him – the mirror in his face was barely visible. Taking a candle, Link lit the wick and laid it on a small counter. Then, he continued to stare into the mirror at his reflection. A wave of emotions began to flood over him as he noted the scars and marks that ravaged his skin. He remembered the skirmishes that he had fought, with Midna by his side. The things they had been through, it was incredible. Aside with all the battle scars, other things stuck out to Link. The last time he thoroughly looked at himself, was when he was deathly ill – the time when he had actually tried to die.

            Thinking back, he was glad Eric found him. He was glad that Zelda never gave up on him. How thankful he was for them. If it weren’t for her – if it wasn’t for Zelda coming to find him stranded in his basement, he would have died; if it wasn’t for Zelda always caring for him; he would have died in that alleyway; if it wasn’t for Zelda ordering to get the mirror put back together, he would have never seen Midna again. And then drip by drop, tears began to stream down his face. Zelda was his best friend, from the numerous times she saved his life. Although they differed so greatly – he would do the same for, as she did to him.

            Because of Zelda, he wasn’t a twig. His skin looked a healthy hue – not pale and sickly; there was rosiness to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His eyes even glistened – blue irises as deep as a storm’s thick. Link made his way down the image in the mirror – noting that although he was not as his peak, he looked like the average man his age, more or less on the skinnier side. Collar bones slowly returning back to his skin, the skin of his arms slowly becoming defined to the shape of his returning strength, and the skin of his hands, although calloused, warm and welcoming – not cold and icy.

            Link lightly chuckled as he took a meager cloth to his face to dry his tears, all until he heard the knock from the front of his house. Stopping in his movements, he waited a second, two, and then knock repeated itself. Grumbling, Link stamped out of the washroom, sliding an oversized shirt over his chest. Reaching forward at the doorknob, he grasped it between his fingers, groaned, and then pressed on to pull the door open.

            “Why must you bother me at this time of night?” Link immediately snapped, before he even bothered to identify the face of the man at his door.

            The blond was taken back, however, when a large hand reached for his chest and pushed him backwards, allowing space for the other to enter. The stranger that had just stepped right in Link’s small household was hooded in a dark green robe. He was much taller than Link, too. As he closed the front door, preparing to confront the man, the hood flipped off his head, revealing the familiar blond hair, tied up in a ponytail with a small bow. Before the man even turned his head to reveal the structure of his face to Link, he already knew the man’s identity.

            “Kokau… how are you.. like... here?” Link approached the taller man, gently resting a hand on his forearm.

            Only slightly turning his head back to the shorter, Kokau smiled, brushing the other’s hand off his arm. “I pleaded the goddesses to let me return as a mortal for the next few days. I didn’t want to miss your big day. I’ve always wanted to witness a ceremonial wed. I’ve never seen one, or taken part in one.”

            Unbuttoning his cloak, Kokau rested it on the back of a wooden chair, following by seating himself in it. Taking notion, Link sat himself across from the man, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands, creating an image of himself that only screamed that he was curious. Kokau, however, crossed his legs and didn’t bother to face Link in the face. He only blankly stared pass him, out the window, into the endless darkness of the night.

            Glancing down at the tabletop, Link spoke up, “What do you mean you haven’t been in one? I’m your descendent, right? That means you got married and had kids. That’s how it works, right?”

            The sigh released from Kokau’s mouth was oddly audible. For the most part, Kokau had seemed the silent man – only speaking when necessary, not even his normal noises were ever heard. But then, slowly, the man turned his face to Link. What was revealed resulted in Link’s jaw dropping, his hands whipping up to cover his gaping mouth, and traces of an all too familiar liquid gathering about his eyelids.

            “Kokau, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?” Immediately, Link stood from his chair and rushed over to the other, wrapping his arms around the other tightly.

            Kokau’s red puffy eyes blinked once or twice, until they stayed shut. Tears began to trickle down his face, leaving trails behind them. Jaw clenched, the man reached a hand up to his mouth, muffling any small whine or cry that made its way through his urge to hide them. Then, he went still. The shorter slowly unraveled his hands from the man and stared at him, concern flooding over his thoughts.

            After a minute or so, Kokau took an outburst and dried his eyes, returning the gaze to Link with an attempted confident smile. It was crooked and lopsided; his lips rose higher on the left side of his face rather than his right. He had the expression of a teenager who just pulled the dumbest prank on his parents. To such amusement, the frown that enveloped Link’s face faded to a tiny grin.

            “I don’t want to push it, but if you’re up to it, would you mind explaining what just happened?” Link spoke and gave a crooked grin that just pleaded for answers.

            Nodding, Kokau gestured over to the chair that the other had just been sitting it. “Yeah, just take a seat though. Your floor is dusty as hell. You probably don’t want to be a mess tomorrow. Get off the floor, please.”

            Snickering, Link did as told, pulling the chair over so he sat directly in front of the other. Crossing one foot over his opposite knee, folding his hands in his lap; he had been trying to break his habits of slouching. He knew after tomorrow, he would have to live in the Twilit Realm, with their _princess_. He couldn’t be the typical farm boy he had grown up being. And in attempt, he tried to look as right as possible, to create a habit of it, he assumed.

            Rolling his eyes around in his head, it was obvious that Kokau played with the unspoken words with his tongue, trying to create the best combination. When he opened his mouth after the moments of silence, the soft cough from his throat caught Link’s attention. “Well, I _was_ going to get married. That never happened though.”

            “Why?” Link cocked his head slightly, raising one brow simultaneously.

            “Well, realizing I couldn’t be with Zelda, because after she sent me back, I was the only one that knew of the events that had happened. Zelda had no clue who I was anymore, and Hyrule didn’t need to be saved anymore, so there was no reason for me to try to approach her. As I grew older, I met Malon ‘again’,” Kokau said, yawning and taking a moment to admire the flesh that he had again, taking in each little function that didn’t’ seem to faze any other person.

            “So you were going to marry Malon, but you didn’t?”

            Nodding, Kokau held his hands together under his chin, preparing to continue on with his exploration of his past.  “I was, as I grew older, I realized she was the closest to Zelda that I could get. Nobody knew me as the hero then, and it made me glad and sad at the same time. I liked that people didn’t flock over me, but I also did miss the appreciation that I had previously gotten. But, anyways, back to Malon. I did love her, lots and lots. Not as much as Zelda, though. No, never as much as Zelda. I felt bad about that. It was obvious that Malon loved me as much as I loved Zelda.”

            Shrinking back into his chair, Link stared at the ground. “Oh. Did she find out?”

            Shaking his head, contradicting the younger’s assumptions. “No, I’m pretty good with secrets. But, I felt bad about the deficit of the affection. So, there was a night where I took her in my hands. After the many years I had relived my childhood, I had gotten all the adult’s references by then. And then there was that one guy in castle town… suggesting I be a prostitute. I never got that until too late.”

            Before Kokau could continue on, he was interrupted by the loud laughter of Link, whose cheeks were as red as a heart potion.

            “Somebody suggested you be a prostitute? Oh my goddesses. Why. I thought that job was for women.” Link reached his hand up to hold his mouth shut to prevent himself from interrupting the other any further.

            Grumbling and rolling his eyes, Kokau smirked. “Yes, yes. I was talking to an old man, and the first thing he said to me was ‘if I had looks like you, I could run a _different_ kind of business’ and then he winked at me. At the time, where I was still mentally ten, I was scared out of my mind. Then he stared at me odd. You never really see a sixteen year old with a big ass sword and hella fine thighs crying over a dumb comment. I never went back to that place either. Link would you stop laughing I’m being serious.”

            The laughing idiot just waved his hand back and forth, practically telling Kokau to continue as he tried to suppress his giggles.

            Glaring at the smaller, Kokau turned his attention away from Link’s outburst of laughter. “Why did I even mention that…. Ugh. Back to Malon. Having to have grown up twice, I picked up on what the adults did when the lights were out. And then one night I felt impulse to do it, I guess to make up for what I lacked. And how I think she enjoyed it… she was so loud, I was just glad her father was in Kakariko at the time. I enjoyed it, too.” Taking a breath, the man looked up from his hands to see Link wide eyed across from him, red flashing across his cheeks. “What?”

            “Could you not go into detail? I don’t need to know about your sex life.” Link’s eyes flickered towards the ground.

            Snickering, Kokau smirked at the other. “I wasn’t going to.” Immediately, he saw the relief in Link’s face from his words. “But, almost a year later a little one came along. It was my fault, too. I felt obligated to stay. Her name was Marielle. The little girl was so cute; she said my name first, too. By then I gave up my hopes for Zelda, and I asked Malon to marry me. We hadn’t had the ceremony, so it was never official, but in my mind I always believed we tied the knot. And then only a moon or two later, oh hey, we were going to have another kiddo. I was more so shocked. But, it was going to be nice.”

            Smiling, Link raised his brows at Kokau. “Was it a girl or boy? Name? How did they look?”

            Taking a pause, Kokau exhaled. “I don’t know. Before he or she was born, I had been recruited to the Hylian army. There was a skirmish with the Gerudo, and they needed skilled swordsmen to lead. Quickly after I joined I was promoted to general. And, during our first battle, I let down my guard for a moment to aid a fallen comrade, that’s when I was struck. I looked down at my stomach, and the tip of a lengthy sword, covered in blood, was coming out of me. That was when I passed on. I never got to meet my second child.”

            The silly grin on Link’s face dropped and was replaced with a pained frown. “But, you saw them as a spirit, right? Like how you talked to me those many times during my quest.”

            Elongated, Kokau shook his head, forcing his eyes shut. “No. The goddesses only granted me that ability not long ago. Yes, I lived on a spirit before so, but, I never could stay in the present day. It was only up in the heavens. But then you came into the world, and I’ve been watching over you since before you were born.”

            Pursing his lips, Link’s smile grew across his face. “Really?”

            Nodding his head, Kokau smirked. “Yup. That’s why I told your father to come back, but he never listened. He was a coward. He helped bring you into the world. He should have taken some responsibility.”

            Staring down at the ground, beginning to rub the inside of his forearm with his hand, Link crowed lightly. “Yeah, I know.”

            Exhaling, Kokau grinned at the other. “Sorry for bringing it up. Anyways, we should move on to a brighter topic, don’t you agree?” Quickly looking up, Link responded to Kokau with a nod of his head, and the taller took note of it. “Ah, so are you excited for tomorrow?”

            Shrugging his shoulders, the younger’s face flushed a rosy pink as a cheesy grin made its shape with his slips. “Yeah. I’m nervous, too. I don’t want to mess up. But I also want to see Midna.”

            “I bet she looks beautiful.”

            “That’s an understatement. She’s drop dead gorgeous,” Link snickered, trying to hide his blush in his hands.

            Reaching over and patting the blond’s shoulder, Kokau smiled from ear to ear. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” Finding amusement in the other’s fluster, the taller decided it would be the best time to change the subject. Pulling away, from the smaller, Kokau raised his brows in question toward Link. “So, how’s everything going, physically? You look better than last time I saw you.”

            Taken back by the other’s comment, Link nodded his head, slowly, but fully. “Yeah, I’m doing better, you could say. Things slowed down. I haven’t improved too much since last time we  met.”

            “Let me see.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Link raised his voice slightly, not in the angered manner, but the rather inquisitive.

            “Take off your shirt. I want to see how you actually look. You may see yourself as getting better. I only want to confirm. All I can see are you neck, wrists, and everything below the knees. That doesn’t provide me with much security to your health.” As he spoke, Kokau tilted his head and raised his brows.

            Squinting his eyes and making grumbles of incoherent noises as he stood, clashing of consonants flaked with vowels. “Fine.” Slowly, Link’s hands made their way to the hem of his shirt, gradually pulling it up over his head, revealing his skin. Since Kokau had arrived while he was changing, all he stood in was his undergarments, and goose bumps began to cover his skin as his teeth clattered lightly.

            Kokau stared up at Link’s face as the smaller turned a bright red. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you.”

            “I feel awkward with just my underwear on.”

            “I can make it more awkward if you want.”

            “Kokau, no. Don’t you dare.”

            Snickering, the taller feel back in his chair. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Maybe.” The death glare that was shot at Kokau only made him laugh harder as he stood, looking over Link’s frame. Sometimes poking at his rips, spine, or shoulders, the man made a full circle around the younger. “You’re not as skinny. Ribs still stick out though.”

            Sighing, Link reached down and slipped his shirt back over his head. “I know I know. I’ve been trying to do as Midna and Zelda say. But most of the time I just don’t feel right.”

            Returning to his seat, Kokau placed his finger on his chin. “What do you mean?”

            “I don’t care as much as they do. I just want to move on with my life. But they keep bringing up that I gotta do this and that. I just don’t care _that_ much.” Taking his seat, too, Link stared at the ground and shrugged his shoulders.

            “I don’t want to repeat what they said, but to move on with this whole incident, you have to be healthy – or you’re going to live miserably for the rest of your life.” Kokau bent forward, taking his hand and forcing Link’s chin to come up from the floor, resulting their eyes to lock.

            “I know, it just… I don’t know,” Link sighed.

            “It’s fine. You’ll be happier tomorrow. How about we hit the sack? It’s pretty late. I can crash on the rugs.” Kokau grinned, standing from his chair and grabbing his cloak, making a pillow of it before tossing it onto a rug.

            Staring wide eyed at the man, Link nodded. “Okay. I’ll be up in the loft if you need me. Just don’t eat anything in the kitchen. I don’t know how long it’s been sitting there.” Standing from the table, Link blew out the lantern, following by climbing the ladders to the loft where his bed sat. With a sigh, he glanced down at Kokau, sleeping already – loudly, too.

            Snores echoed through the humble household as Link climbed into his bed. The previous night Midna had been right there beside him. She held him in her warm embrace. And to think that for the rest of his life, all of his nights would be like that, a small tear trickled down his face as a warm smile filled his face.

            “I won’t be alone anymore.”

* * *

 

            Following Uli into her household, Midna hid her face from Rusl, who sat at the table alone, eating a bowl of soup. She assumed Colin and Emma were sound asleep – it was far past a child bedtime, with the hour of night that it was. Glancing at her hands, her eyes met with the ring that rested on her finger.

            There were three small jewels, one green, one a fiery red, and the last was a rich blue. She grinned. She hadn’t known where Link had gotten it, but it was beautiful. She felt honored to have it. She prepared long and well for the ceremony tomorrow, and now was the last part.

            Uli had disappeared into a side room for several moments, and she returned with a long, elegant, Ordonian gown. It was laced and the ornate sewing patterns sung of Hyrule. Before she could even comment on its beauty, the dress was firmly shoved into Midna’s arms.

            “Rusl, go off to bed. I’ve got to help Midna fit this.” Uli smiled at her husband, pecking him on the cheek.            

            With a smile, the man nodded and walked up the stairs. And the next thing Midna knew, the dress was being strewn over her head, the laces being tied tightly in the back. She felt the fabric tighten around her waist, but not by too much, and then flow freely to the ground.

            “It’s beautiful, Uli.” Midna admired the dress. “Thank you for lending it to me.”

            Shaking her head and grinning, Uli patted Midna on the back. “Oh it’s nothing, honey. Link will love it. You look absolutely stunning.”

            While the red flooded her face, Midna smiled back. “Oh my, thank you!”

            “Now, let’s take it off, preserve it for tomorrow.” Uli smiled as she began to untie the dress from the back.

            “I honestly can’t wait for tomorrow to come”

            “I don’t think Link can, either, sweetie. He’s head over heels for ya’.”

            Snickering, Midna said, “Yeah I know, he’s a dweeb. I’m just excited. Really, really, really excited.”

            “Why?” Uli asked, although she knew the answer was probably obvious.

            “I won’t be alone anymore.”


	21. Ceremonies of Wed

            With a groan, Kokau propped himself on one elbow and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Against the back of the skin on his hand, he felt the rigid skin that ran along his eye rub against him. With a scowl, the blond jerked his hand away from his face, refusing to remind himself of the many years gone. Nor did he want to remind himself of his fading vision on that side. Rolling his neck, Kokau stood from the floor, dusting the remnants of dust off his clothes. Staring up the loft at the origin of the small snores, he smiled. He would finally witness a ceremony of wed.

            “Hey, Link!” Kokau cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up at the sleeping mess. “Today’s the big day! Get your butt out of bed!”

            Grinning up at the groggy head that popped over the bedside, Kokau gave a wave. “Sleepyhead, get up. We gotta head down to the spring, remember? You’re seeing Midna again today.”

            With the mention of her name, the dirty blond sprung up from his previously resting position, practically gliding down his small ladder, and rushing to his washroom to tidy up. Putting on a set of rather formal clothes himself, Kokau followed the shorter to the washroom, only coming to see Link practically ready. The soft cloth that embraced his skin held together by pelts that were only used in such ceremonies. He looked stunning, actually.

            “A bit excited there?” Kokau leaned into the room, giggling slightly to the shorter’s jump.

            With a quick nod, Link squeezed himself by Kokau. “Get ready! We need to get down to the spring!”

            With a snort, Kokau rolled his eyes. “So _now_ you’re awake. I see how it is.”

            “You said Midna, and that I get to see her. Be quiet.” Link turned over his shoulder smirking, a rather playful look that had taken quite an absence from his face. And without a second thought, the excited youth began to promptly make his way to the door.

            “Wait a second,” Kokau called after him whilst beginning to change into his own formal attire. “Don’t leave yet. We’ve still got to do something.”

            Turing on his heels, Link raised a brow at the former hero. “Huh? What else?”

            Shaking his head and crossing his arms, Kokau snickered. “Your hair, dummy.”

            “What about it?”

            “It’s a bit long.”

            “But it’s in a braid.”

            Rolling his eyes, Kokau took his palm to his face and a sarcastic wave of air left his lips. “Link… you’re about to have your ceremony of wed. You can’t have long hair like that. It looks sloppy.”

            “I look fine.” Link laughed, shrugging the other off.

            With a frustrated frown, Kokau stomped over to the shorter and grabbed him by the shoulder, considerate of the ceremonial garbs draped over his skin. Without the other’s consent, he took dragged Link to the small kitchen area and grabbed the cleanest knife he saw. With a simple grab and slice, a wad of dirty blond hair fell to the wooden floor. Link turned around and looked at Kokau, bitterness in his expression.

            “What the hell? You have your hair in a ponytail, why can’t I.”

            “I’m not in the ceremony. Technically, I’m not even supposed to be standing and breathing right beside you. I’m only here for today and tomorrow and that’s it. Then I’m gone. Back to the spirit world. I’m just living how I used to. Let me enjoy the time I have. I’m only here because of you, anyways.” Kokau huffed at the smaller, giving him a rather disappointed frown.

            Sighing and relaxing his rather tensed frown, Link’s eyes somewhat flickered to the ground. “Sorry, I’m just really excited.”

            Patting the smaller’s shoulder; the hero’s shade gave a forgiving grin. “I can understand that. Now, let’s head down to the spring, shall we?”

            As his eyes widened, the younger practically bounced on his feet, too eager to keep it internal. Grabbing at Kokau’s wrist, he began to drag the older to his door, keeping in mind both of their garments. Out the door and down the ladder, the two quickly made their way down to the spring, admiring the almost too good weather.

            Link grinned up at the trees, attempting to hum along with the birds that sung out of delight. Kokau looked down at him and grinned. Over all the years – the nineteen years – that he had watched over the lad, it was today that he seemed his happiest, the brightest. The recent times of darken have taken for change.

            Although, Kokau knew the light times would fall short – fall into the pattern of darkness, but then the light would prevail again. He was afraid for when that time would come again. He knew the goddesses would only grant him this one time to live again as a mortal. From then, he knew he could only communicate with the boy as he had done before. Noticing the shorter halting by his side, Kokau was dragged out of his thoughts with a tug on his shoulder.

            “I think you’ll stand up next to Eric, okay?” The shorter raised his brows, waiting for a conformation.

            “Yeah, I will.” Kokau nodded his head shakily.

            With a delighted grin, the two entered the sandy hollow, only to be awaited by Bo, Rusl, and Eric. Urgently, the stout mayor strode his way over to the young groom. Taking him by his arm, he led him over to the ‘front’ of the ceremonial structure.

            “Those garbs look a bit big on you, Link,” whispered Bo as he tidied up Link’s outfit.

            Shrugging and smirking, the shorter laughed. “Well, I’m a bit short, if you can’t see.”

            With a snort, Kokau shook his head, causing the center of attention to divert to him.

            “Who’s you friend?” Eric asked, pointing a thumb at the tall blonde man.  
            Taking a gulp, the dirty blonde’s eyes wavered back and forth before answering. “His name’s Kokau.”

            Nodding his head, the red head grinned. “Ah, sounds ancient, heh. It sounds like a word from one of Zelda’s history books.”

            With a playful sneer, Kokau chuckled. “It does have a rather ancient meaning. Have you ever read of the ancient tribe of the Kokiri?”

            Instantly, the red head’s eyes widened and his grin grew twice its size. It was all too obvious that he had spent many days in the library studying this small group. “Yes! Yes! I have!”

            Eric’s interest in the subject enlivened the taller’s mood, resulting with a wrap around his neck as they stood themselves astray of Link, to the left of the mantle in which Link stood under. Grinning, Kokau took his hand away from Eric, “Well, my family has had quite a relationship with that tribe in the past. My father’s name was Kauku, which means ‘Kokiri spirit’, while my name means ‘of the Kokiri’.”

            Since his face was hidden from the other two, Link faced down to the ground and grinned to himself. He knew Kokau’s lies, but they seemed believable. Nobody else in the area knew he was the Hero of Time, he presumed. Nobody knew he lived hundreds of years ago, nor did they know he actually believed he was a Kokiri as a child. Thinking about his long gone friend ached away at his heart, like his feelings were guitar strings being strummed too hard. The sound rich and pure, but the recoil against the wood was all he felt. What if he were like that? No, he wouldn’t die early. He was going to get married soon. He wouldn’t end up like that, but the idea scared him.

            As Link was finally going to take deep breaths, he spotted the hoard of guests filing into the small spring. At instant, his face turned a rosy hue and shot away from all the people staring at him. In his peripheral vision he saw the young children, jittery and bouncing on their feet, obviously excited for the occasion. And then he felt a tug on his garments.

            He looked down to see Malo, who had grown taller since he saw him last. Behind him was Colin, who held Emma, Talo, Beth, and Ilia. While the children separated a small path, Ilia approached him and knit a small, white, rose into his garments. Staring at her wide-eyed, he opened his mouth to speak before she placed her finger on his lips to shush him.

            “There was a time I loved you like you love her,” she sighed, avoiding his eyes. “But, it didn’t take long to learn that we were fated for different ways. And, to know that you’re happy now… It means the world to me.”

            “Ilia.. I.” Again, the woman’s hand held his lips together.

            “Forget about me, just go love her. Enjoy her. Cherish her. Spend the rest of your life with her. She is yours as you are hers. Enjoy it.” With a grin, Ilia slowly pulled away from him. A hesitance as she took several steps back, rejoining her father in the mass of onlookers.

            As the woman his age stepped away, the children took her place, all bundles of smiles with flowers knit in their hands. Greeting them with a grin, Link came down to their level, resting his hand on Colin’s shoulder, only for little Emma to grab at it within seconds. While the tiny child pulled at his hand, the older children began to speak.

            “So, if you’re marryin’ her… is she goin’ to stay ‘ere? Or are you goin’ with her?” Beth was the first to speak, hands wrapped around her back as her eye contact fluttered around with the sand below their feet.

            His smile turning to a somewhat sorry frown, Link sighed. “Well, yes.”

            The little gasp from Talo’s mouth was a pain to the blonde’s ears, cringing as he avoided seeing their hurt expressions. “Why?” asked Talo.

            “Well,” Link said before pausing. “She’s the princess of her homeland… she _has_ to be there. So I will be going with her.”

            A chorus of disappointed words fled the mouths of the children before Link spoke again.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll come and visit!” Link grinned at the small children.

            As soon as their frowns turned to excited smiles, their parents called them to their sides, sitting them down. And that was when Link realized that guests had fallen silent. He was about to laugh and ask why it had gotten so quiet. But then he looked out at the people and immediately he felt his cheeks grow hot and his hands clammy.

            “Holy goddesses.”

            The words tainted his tongue with ever-so elegance, their resonance almost nonexistent. Link’s eyes wide as an overjoyed smile graced upon his lips. Entering the small spring was the Twilit Princess, robed in traditional, Ordonian garments of wed. The white silk that flowed past her ankles was cloaked with the pelt of wolf, like Link’s was.

            While Link’s eyes followed her down the aisle, his gaze only drifted for a moment to meet with Kile’s. He wanted to give a haughty sneer at the man, but refrained from doing so, with the knowledge that the whole town and a few others watched him with a close eye.

            But, before he knew it, Midna stood in front of his face, grinning from ear to ear. The only thing separating them was the veil that covered her face. With a cheesy grin, Link’s blush only deepened until he jumped a little when Bo had placed his hand on his shoulder.

            The older man’s reassuring smile eased Link somewhat while Midna giggled to herself. “It’s alright, Link. Let’s get this ceremony started while we still have time.”

            Bo began to read off ceremonial texts, but the words turned to mush in Link’s head. Midna’s too. The words had to matter to them. Link would only focus himself when he heard the key words where he had to respond with ‘I do’. Until then, he stared into Midna’s eyes.

            From her dark magenta pupils, to her fiery hair that was surprisingly tied to her side in a braid, Midna’s appearance was mesmerizing. The young hero could only watch her in awe, each movement she made as precious as a blessing from the goddesses.

            A rumble.

            Bo stopped talking.    

            Gasps from the audience were the sudden noises that dragged Midna and Link out of their trance.

            Dust knocked up in the air, followed by low, beastly grumbles. Midna’s eyes only grew wide.

            And then he saw it.

            The shadowy figure of the Twili. The Twilit Bounty Hunters. Their leader holding a spear while the other two held small daggers.

            As soon as the beast noticed Link’s horrified expression, a malicious smile sprouted upon its black skin, revealing two rows of slightly stained teeth. A snicker and in a sudden motion, the three beasts began charging into the spring. The guests ran to the sides to stay clear.

            “Eric, give me your sword!” Link yelled back to the red head, face filled with panic. With each passing second the bounty hunters inched forward.

            _I can’t vaporize them_ , thought Midna. _Not here, no. There’s no place as the ‘nothingness’ in the light realm_. Her fears only worsened when she realized the spear was aimed at Link, and he had nothing to defend himself.

            Eric’s hands grabbed at his sheath, which was all tangled up beneath his extensive robes. His eyes furiously met with Link’s. “I can’t get it.”

            Glancing back at the beasts, which were only a few steps away, his already quickened heartbeat skyrocketed. Out of instinct, he shoved Midna away, protecting the only thing he had left. As soon as he embraced himself for the blow, he only felt a pair of hands against his back, pushing him out of the way. He heard the puncture and felt the splatter of blood. As far as he knew he was just dead.

            But then he took a breath. He was still breathing and in flesh. He wasn’t dead. At instant, Link turned to see who took the blow for him, expecting Eric of Kokau.

            But, no.

            It was neither.

            The man who dropped to his knees with a spear still in his chest was the one who betrayed him those many years ago. Kile. Disrupted by the shock, Eric finally freed his blade and severed the head of the murdering beast, while Rusl and Kokau finished off the remaining two.

            When Midna turned her head to see Link again, she took a small gasp, watching the Hylian fall to his knees in front of his father. Cupping his hands around the man’s face, Link pressed his forehead against the older’s.

            “Thank you,” he whispered, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

            With a heavy breath, Kile nodded his head weakly. “Don’t mention it.” Another deep breath, with a quick glance down at the bloody spear end poking out from his chest. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to you… not after all I put you through… no..”

            The older coughed, sputtering a small trace of blood on Link’s garbs while the rest ran down his face.

            “You didn’t have to do that though,” Link whispered, taking his thumb and wiping some of the older man’s blood away from his lips.       

            The life fading away from Kile was evident as his eyes grew glossier and skin paler. “I just wanted to make up for what I did.”

            “Well, I already forgave you for what you did,” Link murmured, his voice dying down as he felt the man grow limp in his hand. Exhaling, the blond lowered the dead man gently to the ground. Looking up, he saw most of the guests had left in fear, which he had expected.

            At the instant he turned around, he was taking into the arms of Midna, holding his head to her chest. “I’m sorry, darling.”

            Pulling away from the taller, Link shook his head and stared at the ground. “It’s ok. I didn’t love him anyways. Can we finish the ceremony? I just want to go home right now.”

            With a glum nod, Bo resumed his position under the mantle. While Midna and Link stood side to side, the Twili couldn’t help but look down at the small blond and see the fear in his eyes. But then her attention was snapped back to the Ordonian mayor.

            “Link, will you take her as your wife and promise to cherish her until death separates?”

            “I do.” Soft and quietly he spoke, not daring to risk a squeak in his voice.

            “Midna, will you take Link as your husband and enjoy life with him until death separates?”

            With a firm nod, she spoke loud and clearly. “I do.”

            With a smile, Bo glanced at both of them with rosy cheeks. “Link, you may now kiss the bride.”

            Looking up a Midna, Link gave a cheesy smile while his cheeks turned as bright as the Twili had ever seen them. Reaching up and unveiling her face, Midna bent down while Link had to rise up off his heels. Wrapping his arms around her neck, while she made her around his waist, the two met at the lips, eyes closed and faces pink as roses.

            Pulling away, they were both caught off guard from the small applause from the remaining guests. Zelda, Eric, Kokau, Impa, Bo, and Rusl each had small, dainty smiles on their faces. With a giggle, Midna smirked and pulled Link into her side.

            “See? I told you I’d see you again.”

            “Damn right, heh.” Link snickered into her side, hiding his red face from the others.

* * *

            Waving a final goodbye to the townsfolk, they all retreated to their homes, locking up safely for the night. It had been decided that Kile’s burial would be held the following day. It was too hectic for everybody to take in, in only a short amount of time.

            As Midna and Link were about to take the night back at his humble home, Kokau waited at the edge of the woods, gesturing for Link to see him.

            “Midna, I’ll be right there, I’ve got to say goodbye to somebody really quick.” Link slid down his ladder, grinning up at his new wife.

            “Be in before its dark, I wanna… heh… show you something.” With a snicker and smirk, Midna made her way into the small home, leaving Link staring up at her, confused.

            After the woman disappeared behind the closing door, Link continued to head over to Kokau. The former hero took him in with a warm hung before his voice dropped cold. Staring up at him, Link battered his eyes once or twice before developing a small, pouty frown.

            “Link, you do realize I’ll be gone once morning comes, right?”

            “What?”

            Sighing, Kokau pulled Link’s hands from his arms. “I told you, the goddesses only allowed me this mortal body for this event. I’ll be gone by morning. I can still talk to you, though. That will never be cut off.”

            “But-“

            “I’ll always be there for you, you little dork.” Kokau messed with the younger’s hair before slowly beginning to back away.

            Link’s smile slowly faded as Kokau’s image became a blur in the distance. And with a heavy breath, he turned and returned to his small household. Opening the door, he was hit with an unexpected darkness – the only light in the rooms came from the dim and setting sun though the windows.

            “Midna? Where are y-“ He make a small yelp when he suddenly felt a pair of hands grab at his waist. “Oh, heh. There you are… what did you want to show me?”

            Before he knew it, he saw the woman’s silhouette whip around to his front, grabbing him by his wrist. Once she threw him on the sofa, he stared up at her flowing frame and grinned. “What’re you up to?”

            “Oh you’ll see,” she whispered in a snarky tone before placing herself on his hips. And then without a word, she dropped the robe that covered her and proceeded to lean down on to Link, her face just above his.

            “Ah, I see what you’re up to now,” Link retorted, placing his hands no Midna’s waist.

            Their lips collided only once before the rest of the night became a sloppy mess, entangling their bodies.


	22. Blood on White

            With a groan, Kokau propped himself on one elbow and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Against the back of the skin on his hand, he felt the rigid skin that ran along his eye rub against him. With a scowl, the blond jerked his hand away from his face, refusing to remind himself of the many years gone. Nor did he want to remind himself of his fading vision on that side. Rolling his neck, Kokau stood from the floor, dusting the remnants of dust off his clothes. Staring up the loft at the origin of the small snores, he smiled. He would finally witness a ceremony of wed.

            “Hey, Link!” Kokau cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up at the sleeping mess. “Today’s the big day! Get your butt out of bed!”

            Grinning up at the groggy head that popped over the bedside, Kokau gave a wave. “Sleepyhead, get up. We gotta head down to the spring, remember? You’re seeing Midna again today.”

            With the mention of her name, the dirty blond sprung up from his previously resting position, practically gliding down his small ladder, and rushing to his washroom to tidy up. Putting on a set of rather formal clothes himself, Kokau followed the shorter to the washroom, only coming to see Link practically ready. The soft cloth that embraced his skin held together by pelts that were only used in such ceremonies. He looked stunning, actually.

            “A bit excited there?” Kokau leaned into the room, giggling slightly to the shorter’s jump.

            With a quick nod, Link squeezed himself by Kokau. “Get ready! We need to get down to the spring!”

            With a snort, Kokau rolled his eyes. “So _now_ you’re awake. I see how it is.”

            “You said Midna, and that I get to see her. Be quiet.” Link turned over his shoulder smirking, a rather playful look that had taken quite an absence from his face. And without a second thought, the excited youth began to promptly make his way to the door.

            “Wait a second,” Kokau called after him whilst beginning to change into his own formal attire. “Don’t leave yet. We’ve still got to do something.”

            Turing on his heels, Link raised a brow at the former hero. “Huh? What else?”

            Shaking his head and crossing his arms, Kokau snickered. “Your hair, dummy.”

            “What about it?”

            “It’s a bit long.”

            “But it’s in a braid.”

            Rolling his eyes, Kokau took his palm to his face and a sarcastic wave of air left his lips. “Link… you’re about to have your ceremony of wed. You can’t have long hair like that. It looks sloppy.”

            “I look fine.” Link laughed, shrugging the other off.

            With a frustrated frown, Kokau stomped over to the shorter and grabbed him by the shoulder, considerate of the ceremonial garbs draped over his skin. Without the other’s consent, he took dragged Link to the small kitchen area and grabbed the cleanest knife he saw. With a simple grab and slice, a wad of dirty blond hair fell to the wooden floor. Link turned around and looked at Kokau, bitterness in his expression.

            “What the hell? You have your hair in a ponytail, why can’t I.”

            “I’m not in the ceremony. Technically, I’m not even supposed to be standing and breathing right beside you. I’m only here for today and tomorrow and that’s it. Then I’m gone. Back to the spirit world. I’m just living how I used to. Let me enjoy the time I have. I’m only here because of you, anyways.” Kokau huffed at the smaller, giving him a rather disappointed frown.

            Sighing and relaxing his rather tensed frown, Link’s eyes somewhat flickered to the ground. “Sorry, I’m just really excited.”

            Patting the smaller’s shoulder; the hero’s shade gave a forgiving grin. “I can understand that. Now, let’s head down to the spring, shall we?”

            As his eyes widened, the younger practically bounced on his feet, too eager to keep it internal. Grabbing at Kokau’s wrist, he began to drag the older to his door, keeping in mind both of their garments. Out the door and down the ladder, the two quickly made their way down to the spring, admiring the almost too good weather.

            Link grinned up at the trees, attempting to hum along with the birds that sung out of delight. Kokau looked down at him and grinned. Over all the years – the nineteen years – that he had watched over the lad, it was today that he seemed his happiest, the brightest. The recent times of darken have taken for change.

            Although, Kokau knew the light times would fall short – fall into the pattern of darkness, but then the light would prevail again. He was afraid for when that time would come again. He knew the goddesses would only grant him this one time to live again as a mortal. From then, he knew he could only communicate with the boy as he had done before. Noticing the shorter halting by his side, Kokau was dragged out of his thoughts with a tug on his shoulder.

            “I think you’ll stand up next to Eric, okay?” The shorter raised his brows, waiting for a conformation.

            “Yeah, I will.” Kokau nodded his head shakily.

            With a delighted grin, the two entered the sandy hollow, only to be awaited by Bo, Rusl, and Eric. Urgently, the stout mayor strode his way over to the young groom. Taking him by his arm, he led him over to the ‘front’ of the ceremonial structure.

            “Those garbs look a bit big on you, Link,” whispered Bo as he tidied up Link’s outfit.

            Shrugging and smirking, the shorter laughed. “Well, I’m a bit short, if you can’t see.”

            With a snort, Kokau shook his head, causing the center of attention to divert to him.

            “Who’s you friend?” Eric asked, pointing a thumb at the tall blonde man.  
            Taking a gulp, the dirty blonde’s eyes wavered back and forth before answering. “His name’s Kokau.”

            Nodding his head, the red head grinned. “Ah, sounds ancient, heh. It sounds like a word from one of Zelda’s history books.”

            With a playful sneer, Kokau chuckled. “It does have a rather ancient meaning. Have you ever read of the ancient tribe of the Kokiri?”

            Instantly, the red head’s eyes widened and his grin grew twice its size. It was all too obvious that he had spent many days in the library studying this small group. “Yes! Yes! I have!”

            Eric’s interest in the subject enlivened the taller’s mood, resulting with a wrap around his neck as they stood themselves astray of Link, to the left of the mantle in which Link stood under. Grinning, Kokau took his hand away from Eric, “Well, my family has had quite a relationship with that tribe in the past. My father’s name was Kauku, which means ‘Kokiri spirit’, while my name means ‘of the Kokiri’.”

            Since his face was hidden from the other two, Link faced down to the ground and grinned to himself. He knew Kokau’s lies, but they seemed believable. Nobody else in the area knew he was the Hero of Time, he presumed. Nobody knew he lived hundreds of years ago, nor did they know he actually believed he was a Kokiri as a child. Thinking about his long gone friend ached away at his heart, like his feelings were guitar strings being strummed too hard. The sound rich and pure, but the recoil against the wood was all he felt. What if he were like that? No, he wouldn’t die early. He was going to get married soon. He wouldn’t end up like that, but the idea scared him.

            As Link was finally going to take deep breaths, he spotted the hoard of guests filing into the small spring. At instant, his face turned a rosy hue and shot away from all the people staring at him. In his peripheral vision he saw the young children, jittery and bouncing on their feet, obviously excited for the occasion. And then he felt a tug on his garments.

            He looked down to see Malo, who had grown taller since he saw him last. Behind him was Colin, who held Emma, Talo, Beth, and Ilia. While the children separated a small path, Ilia approached him and knit a small, white, rose into his garments. Staring at her wide-eyed, he opened his mouth to speak before she placed her finger on his lips to shush him.

            “There was a time I loved you like you love her,” she sighed, avoiding his eyes. “But, it didn’t take long to learn that we were fated for different ways. And, to know that you’re happy now… It means the world to me.”

            “Ilia.. I.” Again, the woman’s hand held his lips together.

            “Forget about me, just go love her. Enjoy her. Cherish her. Spend the rest of your life with her. She is yours as you are hers. Enjoy it.” With a grin, Ilia slowly pulled away from him. A hesitance as she took several steps back, rejoining her father in the mass of onlookers.

            As the woman his age stepped away, the children took her place, all bundles of smiles with flowers knit in their hands. Greeting them with a grin, Link came down to their level, resting his hand on Colin’s shoulder, only for little Emma to grab at it within seconds. While the tiny child pulled at his hand, the older children began to speak.

            “So, if you’re marryin’ her… is she goin’ to stay ‘ere? Or are you goin’ with her?” Beth was the first to speak, hands wrapped around her back as her eye contact fluttered around with the sand below their feet.

            His smile turning to a somewhat sorry frown, Link sighed. “Well, yes.”

            The little gasp from Talo’s mouth was a pain to the blonde’s ears, cringing as he avoided seeing their hurt expressions. “Why?” asked Talo.

            “Well,” Link said before pausing. “She’s the princess of her homeland… she _has_ to be there. So I will be going with her.”

            A chorus of disappointed words fled the mouths of the children before Link spoke again.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll come and visit!” Link grinned at the small children.

            As soon as their frowns turned to excited smiles, their parents called them to their sides, sitting them down. And that was when Link realized that guests had fallen silent. He was about to laugh and ask why it had gotten so quiet. But then he looked out at the people and immediately he felt his cheeks grow hot and his hands clammy.

            “Holy goddesses.”

            The words tainted his tongue with ever-so elegance, their resonance almost nonexistent. Link’s eyes wide as an overjoyed smile graced upon his lips. Entering the small spring was the Twilit Princess, robed in traditional, Ordonian garments of wed. The white silk that flowed past her ankles was cloaked with the pelt of wolf, like Link’s was.

            While Link’s eyes followed her down the aisle, his gaze only drifted for a moment to meet with Kile’s. He wanted to give a haughty sneer at the man, but refrained from doing so, with the knowledge that the whole town and a few others watched him with a close eye.

            But, before he knew it, Midna stood in front of his face, grinning from ear to ear. The only thing separating them was the veil that covered her face. With a cheesy grin, Link’s blush only deepened until he jumped a little when Bo had placed his hand on his shoulder.

            The older man’s reassuring smile eased Link somewhat while Midna giggled to herself. “It’s alright, Link. Let’s get this ceremony started while we still have time.”

            Bo began to read off ceremonial texts, but the words turned to mush in Link’s head. Midna’s too. The words had to matter to them. Link would only focus himself when he heard the key words where he had to respond with ‘I do’. Until then, he stared into Midna’s eyes.

            From her dark magenta pupils, to her fiery hair that was surprisingly tied to her side in a braid, Midna’s appearance was mesmerizing. The young hero could only watch her in awe, each movement she made as precious as a blessing from the goddesses.

            A rumble.

            Bo stopped talking.    

            Gasps from the audience were the sudden noises that dragged Midna and Link out of their trance.

            Dust knocked up in the air, followed by low, beastly grumbles. Midna’s eyes only grew wide.

            And then he saw it.

            The shadowy figure of the Twili. The Twilit Bounty Hunters. Their leader holding a spear while the other two held small daggers.

            As soon as the beast noticed Link’s horrified expression, a malicious smile sprouted upon its black skin, revealing two rows of slightly stained teeth. A snicker and in a sudden motion, the three beasts began charging into the spring. The guests ran to the sides to stay clear.

            “Eric, give me your sword!” Link yelled back to the red head, face filled with panic. With each passing second the bounty hunters inched forward.

            _I can’t vaporize them_ , thought Midna. _Not here, no. There’s no place as the ‘nothingness’ in the light realm_. Her fears only worsened when she realized the spear was aimed at Link, and he had nothing to defend himself.

            Eric’s hands grabbed at his sheath, which was all tangled up beneath his extensive robes. His eyes furiously met with Link’s. “I can’t get it.”

            Glancing back at the beasts, which were only a few steps away, his already quickened heartbeat skyrocketed. Out of instinct, he shoved Midna away, protecting the only thing he had left. As soon as he embraced himself for the blow, he only felt a pair of hands against his back, pushing him out of the way. He heard the puncture and felt the splatter of blood. As far as he knew he was just dead.

            But then he took a breath. He was still breathing and in flesh. He wasn’t dead. At instant, Link turned to see who took the blow for him, expecting Eric of Kokau.

            But, no.

            It was neither.

            The man who dropped to his knees with a spear still in his chest was the one who betrayed him those many years ago. Kile. Disrupted by the shock, Eric finally freed his blade and severed the head of the murdering beast, while Rusl and Kokau finished off the remaining two.

            When Midna turned her head to see Link again, she took a small gasp, watching the Hylian fall to his knees in front of his father. Cupping his hands around the man’s face, Link pressed his forehead against the older’s.

            “Thank you,” he whispered, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

            With a heavy breath, Kile nodded his head weakly. “Don’t mention it.” Another deep breath, with a quick glance down at the bloody spear end poking out from his chest. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to you… not after all I put you through… no..”

            The older coughed, sputtering a small trace of blood on Link’s garbs while the rest ran down his face.

            “You didn’t have to do that though,” Link whispered, taking his thumb and wiping some of the older man’s blood away from his lips.       

            The life fading away from Kile was evident as his eyes grew glossier and skin paler. “I just wanted to make up for what I did.”

            “Well, I already forgave you for what you did,” Link murmured, his voice dying down as he felt the man grow limp in his hand. Exhaling, the blond lowered the dead man gently to the ground. Looking up, he saw most of the guests had left in fear, which he had expected.

            At the instant he turned around, he was taking into the arms of Midna, holding his head to her chest. “I’m sorry, darling.”

            Pulling away from the taller, Link shook his head and stared at the ground. “It’s ok. I didn’t love him anyways. Can we finish the ceremony? I just want to go home right now.”

            With a glum nod, Bo resumed his position under the mantle. While Midna and Link stood side to side, the Twili couldn’t help but look down at the small blond and see the fear in his eyes. But then her attention was snapped back to the Ordonian mayor.

            “Link, will you take her as your wife and promise to cherish her until death separates?”

            “I do.” Soft and quietly he spoke, not daring to risk a squeak in his voice.

            “Midna, will you take Link as your husband and enjoy life with him until death separates?”

            With a firm nod, she spoke loud and clearly. “I do.”

            With a smile, Bo glanced at both of them with rosy cheeks. “Link, you may now kiss the bride.”

            Looking up a Midna, Link gave a cheesy smile while his cheeks turned as bright as the Twili had ever seen them. Reaching up and unveiling her face, Midna bent down while Link had to rise up off his heels. Wrapping his arms around her neck, while she made her around his waist, the two met at the lips, eyes closed and faces pink as roses.

            Pulling away, they were both caught off guard from the small applause from the remaining guests. Zelda, Eric, Kokau, Impa, Bo, and Rusl each had small, dainty smiles on their faces. With a giggle, Midna smirked and pulled Link into her side.

            “See? I told you I’d see you again.”

            “Damn right, heh.” Link snickered into her side, hiding his red face from the others.

* * *

 

            Waving a final goodbye to the townsfolk, they all retreated to their homes, locking up safely for the night. It had been decided that Kile’s burial would be held the following day. It was too hectic for everybody to take in, in only a short amount of time.

            As Midna and Link were about to take the night back at his humble home, Kokau waited at the edge of the woods, gesturing for Link to see him.

            “Midna, I’ll be right there, I’ve got to say goodbye to somebody really quick.” Link slid down his ladder, grinning up at his new wife.

            “Be in before its dark, I wanna… heh… show you something.” With a snicker and smirk, Midna made her way into the small home, leaving Link staring up at her, confused.

            After the woman disappeared behind the closing door, Link continued to head over to Kokau. The former hero took him in with a warm hung before his voice dropped cold. Staring up at him, Link battered his eyes once or twice before developing a small, pouty frown.

            “Link, you do realize I’ll be gone once morning comes, right?”

            “What?”

            Sighing, Kokau pulled Link’s hands from his arms. “I told you, the goddesses only allowed me this mortal body for this event. I’ll be gone by morning. I can still talk to you, though. That will never be cut off.”

            “But-“

            “I’ll always be there for you, you little dork.” Kokau messed with the younger’s hair before slowly beginning to back away.

            Link’s smile slowly faded as Kokau’s image became a blur in the distance. And with a heavy breath, he turned and returned to his small household. Opening the door, he was hit with an unexpected darkness – the only light in the rooms came from the dim and setting sun though the windows.

            “Midna? Where are y-“ He make a small yelp when he suddenly felt a pair of hands grab at his waist. “Oh, heh. There you are… what did you want to show me?”

            Before he knew it, he saw the woman’s silhouette whip around to his front, grabbing him by his wrist. Once she threw him on the sofa, he stared up at her flowing frame and grinned. “What’re you up to?”

            “Oh you’ll see,” she whispered in a snarky tone before placing herself on his hips. And then without a word, she dropped the robe that covered her and proceeded to lean down on to Link, her face just above his.

            “Ah, I see what you’re up to now,” Link retorted, placing his hands no Midna’s waist.

            Their lips collided only once before the rest of the night became a sloppy mess, entangling their bodies.


	23. Epilogue

            Link groaned as the rain pelted him from above, leaving the mess atop his head stuck to his face. To his left, with her hand entangled with his, was Midna. He didn’t dare look up. It was an unfortunate day for it to rain, especially during a burial. The words that Bo recited off the top of his head glided over Link’s attention. He remembered those exact words, although hearing them only once, from when he attended his mother’s burial.

            All focus had shifted away from reality and nested deep inside Link’s head, all until he felt pressure against his shoulder. Looking over, he noted a faint hand on his shoulder. Its opacity weak – his own arm was visible through the ghastly skin. His face lit up from the typical gray atmosphere floating around the newly dug grave. Turning, he only saw the skeleton he had met several times, only his one eye showing.

            And then a light glowed greatly from his bones, enveloping them with the flesh that he had held the previous times they had met in the starry plains. Although still transparent in a way, the former hero stood behind him.

            Midna glanced behind her; unable to see the fallen hero, but she could tell from the mesmerized glaze in Link’s eyes that he stood before her partner. With a gentle grin, she pulled her hand from his shoulder, taking steps closer to Kile’s grave, staring down at the half filled grave. Watching as the dirt was thrown in over the makeshift casket – watching as Link’s last alive relative was shoved down into the dirt. And then she turned to look back at Link, who spoke softly – Kokau was there with him, without a doubt.

            “I thought you said you couldn’t come back?” Link questioned the man.

            “As a mortal, I cannot,” Kokau whispered, resting his other hand on the opposite shoulder. “But, I can still talk to you as I did before.”

            Nodding his head, Link’s eyes began to direct themselves toward the ground, avoiding any contact with Kokau’s. “So, why are you here then? I thought last night was our goodbye.”

            With a sigh, the older man’s eyes followed the same path that the smaller’s did. “It’s my great-grandson’s funeral; I’m at least going to help him enter where he needs to go, now that he’s joined me.”

            Subtly, Link nodded his head, returning his gaze to Kokau’s. “So what do I do now? I’ve got Midna back. I don’t have Hyrule to save. What am I supposed to do? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do know.”

            Faintly grinning, Kokau warmly grabbed Link’s shoulders. “Well, you could always settle down, relax for a bit. You deserve it. Maybe start a family? That’d be nice. I’d probably convince the goddesses to let me come back in flesh and bone. To see the grandbabies.”

            Link’s faced flashed a bright red as he awkwardly stared at the older. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to accidentally be like Kile. I don’t want to ruin somebody else’s life because I can’t handle mine.”

            “But you have Midna with you.”

            “I still don’t want to mess up though.”

            Pulling the smaller underneath his shoulder, Kokau forced Link to rest against his chest, feeling the younger exhale a heavy sigh. “You won’t. You have me, and you have Midna. And Uli and Rusl, Zelda and Eric, Bo, Ilia. You’ve got plenty of support. You’ll do fine.”

            “I’ll only have you, Kokau.” Link pulled away, obviously not in the affectionate mood. “Midna and I will have to go to the Twilight Realm.”

            “And so I will help you.” He smiled, feeling his form begin to disintegrate.

            Eyes widening, Link saw the shade’s skin evaporate, slowly leaving him. “So, you’re being called home?”

            “I’m guiding your father to the heavens, actually. I must go.” Kokau sparsely grinned, placing a hand on Link’s face as the ethereal force of the goddesses pulled him away.

            Resting his hand on top of the older’s, Link chuckled. “Will I see you again?”

            With full assurance, Kokau spoke loud and clear. “Most certainly. I’ll see you when you’re at home with Midna. Enjoy the few days break from me.” And he faded away as his words did.

            Link remained standing, staring up into the rain – reality pouring back down on him. With the realization, he returned to Midna’s side, taking her hand in his. The princess glanced down at her smaller partner, first scanning the area. Once confirmed it was empty, she dragged Link over to a small, dry patch of grass. Seating themselves, on the dry patch of land, Midna laid across Link’s lap and stared up at him.

            “I presume you were talking to the Hero’s Shade?” She asked, reaching her hands up to play his hair.

            Nodding his head, he subtly hummed a yes while resting his hand on his wife’s cheek.

            As the silence consumed them, a small smirk formed on Midna’s lips as she wrapped her arms around Link’s waist. “So, are we going to do _it_ tonight?”

            Raising a brow at her, Link gave the princess a confused grin. “What do you mean? I thought we did it last night.”

            With a loud laugh, Midna’s head slung back. “You kissed me a few times, thought we were going to do it, but then we just cuddled. So we going to do it tonight?”

            “I thought we did it though. Is there more to what we did last night?” Link’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment, mouth crumbling from its previous smile.

            And with his words, Midna grew enthusiastic and cheerful, a wide grin on her lips. “Well, then I’ll just have to show you, he he he. “ Without a second word from Link, she sat up, and straddled herself on his waist. “Y’know, we could go home and I can show you what I’m talking about, if you would like. Or we can wait until later. Your choice.”

            Link’s face flushed a heavy red as he began to hang his head back with each slight movement Midna made against him. “Is this.. is this how…”

            Reaching her face forward, her lips met with his and as she pulled away, Midna whispered, “Yes, my dear. And of course, we’ll have some of our own one day. Just not anytime soon, it’s too soon.”

            With a grin, Link nodded. Removing herself from his lap, Midna stood and reached down to help the other up. Once on his feet, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, while he wrapped his arm around her waist. Before crossing the bridge back into the Ordona providence, Midna bent down and collided lips with the shorter again.

            “You don’t understand how much I needed you,” Link whispered, taking the woman into a tight hug. “If Zelda hadn’t given me the opportunity to see you again, I probably would’ve ended up in that grave.”

            With a smirk, Midna entangled her hand with the shorter’s before they began to cross the bridge. “Well, now you’re mine. There’s no leaving me now.”

            “Never again?”

            “Never again.”


End file.
